Thursday, October 29, 2015

Chronicle 59: Ode to the Shower

You and I were close friends once,
And I took it all for granted.
This ode's to you, dear shower, pal.
My view's now slightly slanted.

I used to step under the water,
Steaming hot, sublime.
My eyes would close, my mind would wander,
Once upon a time.

The gentle pulse would wash me clean,
My worries down the drain.
Alas, I have no time for you,
Just time for mommy brain.

My children, see, have come between us.
They need every second I gather
My hands are full (my heart is, too),
But I'm starting to need a lather.

I'm feeling like a Shel Silverstein poem,
with layers of dirt on my skin,
and hair that houses bats and mice,
and clothes thrice lived in.

I know your layers of soap scum
are feeling quite the same,
please don't leave me, shower -
I know I'm being lame.

For now, I'll have to be content
with dreams of that glistening stall
I'll close my eyes (don't fall asleep!)
and hear the water fall.

I miss you, shower.

The Hot (&Dirty) Mama

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