Leaning in, washing,
soaping away the day,
I broodingly eye the sudsy water …
coil and swirl down the drain,
taking the grime of life with it.
Is that weariness I see clinging to the
basin edges? I wipe it clean, loosening it’s grip
before it finds me again, re-settling.
There is no such thing as an old sunset.
Each brilliant stroke paints new opportunity,
reflecting hope for another day,
another chance to make things better.
24 hours to make a difference.
Behold all things new.
Don’t let friendships rust away,
like the vintage jalopy
stored back of the old barn,…
for an inheritance of future glory,
only to have decomposed through lack of care.