The View from LaunderLand

The View From LaunderLand

A proposition:
To breathe, and
see the day for what it is.
Not "once was," or
"could/should be," but
what it is.

Hot.
Lazy.
Fanned by an idle wind.

There was a time, not long ago
when "Wednesdays,"
after all,
simply weren't.

And there will be again.

But for now,
the old woman folds her undies
the young mother scans the ads
I watch the socks flop by, and I

Breathe.