It is Monday morning, time to unwind.
but today I do laundry; I'm behind.
My son's pile is first and guess what I find:
Whiff of autumn wafts in the air
coming from a jacket pocket -
half a used caramel apple.
Still wrapped crackers labeled: "For: Claire"
cheddar cheese and peanut butter
mostly crumbs now in a lone glove.
Small New Testament lies entrapped
in the hip pocket of his jeans
a gift from someone in chapel.
Three permanent markers uncapped
the last of treasures dug out from out
the laundry. It's labor called love.
Some days I'd have washed it all with no care.
Today I find my washer needs repair,
which leaves me time to ponder, "Who is Claire?"