Hope wears an itchy sweater
with holes in the elbows,
rinses returnable bottles,
finds comfort in the rhythm
of the clothes dryer.
Hope belts out its plea,
hitting the high notes
rounding the Chicopee bend
on 91 South.
Hope turns on a dime
or the ten bucks it thought
was stashed in its wallet.
Hope sighs and slouches,
gives trigger warnings,
sits out arguments.
Hope pretends.
Published in Compass Roads: Poems About the Pioneer Valley,
edited by Jane Yolen and published by Straw Dog Writers Guild.
edited by Jane Yolen and published by Straw Dog Writers Guild.
It may be trivial, but it was finding comfort in the rhythm of the clothes dryer that spoke to me most because I am always marvelously calmed by that sound. It's steady and unobtrusive, makes me think of the warmth inside the machine, the smell of clean clothes, and makes me feel like work is being accomplished even if i am only sitting there drinking coffee.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on the publication!!!
Yes, 100% agree! Sitting here right now drinking coffee with the dryer running. :) And thanks, I am sooo thrilled to part part of the Compass Roads project.
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