i wash dishes
in the low yellow light
of my small evening kitchen

while my lover’s voice
paces and animates
the ins of the day
and the outs

i wash dishes
with my back aching and
my shoulders rounding to my core

my mind rushing and
utterly still in the
warm water and suds

i wash dishes
in the atmosphere of music
on a bright weekend morning

while enormous white
clouds roll through the
wild blue in the window
behind me, bidding
me to live abundant
always