An Ordinary Chore
Swaying with electrical cord to the rhythmic hum
of my new vacuum cleaner, I relax into thoughts
of slow dancing with you. My hands steadily drum
to the soft music playing inside my head. Caught
between the background of little boy’s morning cartoons
and a moment of my own, the vacuum drowns out
reality of a Tuesday morning. I whistle the tune
of our wedding song and picture you going about
your day alone at your desk, wondering as I croon,
if you, too, are thinking of me. After all these years,
I still find happiness in thoughts of you. Lost in a June
day from long ago, I steal a smile then imagine you here
with me, dancing barefoot on freshly vacuumed carpet.
An ordinary chore, the vacuum cleaner’s hum
still spurs memories of us too extraordinary to forget.
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