The Ramblings of a House Wife

The soft clouds of cotton white Wipe away the tears of the earth Absorbing the pain poured and puddled below Swarms of pestilence incubated in muddy melancholic pools of despair From clean, fresh, white fluff, these clouds absorb the real us Aging each one to the salt and pepper gray and musky stench of filth Mop it up Wring it Out Over mountain, valley, and field The dirty emotion and sordid feelings like mop water rain down Yet at the dawn a clean shining light The sorrow of the night Washed away with clear, blue skies and The crisp wind snap of clothes line white clouds.