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.
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