Member-only story
4 Laundry Baskets
poetry
Four lonely laundry baskets
sit unattended in my room.
Holding clothes ready for folding.
I’m not drawn to them.
When I was healthy, I washed- mom
folded. Now that I can’t do stairs,
husband washes- I fold.
It’s not as exciting. I always loved
sorting into huge piles and seeing
clothes making an anticipated return.
I can’t get as excited about folding.
I’ll go for as long as possible without
doing what would take 5–10 minutes
with an audiobook to get done.
I just don’t want to deal with those bags.
Clean clothes are a luxury, especially
when you’re going one year in one dress.
And you have one copy of that dress.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll have the motivation.
Poem in response to Keeley Shroder’s Journey Through June prompts.
Tagging a few fellow challengers: Katie Michaelson Michael Rhodes Randy Pulley Autistic Widower ("AJ") NancyO Karen Schwartz The Sturg Ruby Noir 😈 Adrian CDTPPW
