Saturday Poetry

Zen and Dirty Dishes

By Billie Daddario

The dog outside the window smears the glass.

And the sink is full of proof that I exist.

The messiness of life is all around me, and I revel in it.

Tidiness is for the old ladies that knit their lives by patterns.

A life to full of what is now, not yet past.

Untidy lovers leaving scars on the furniture,

Children screaming and laughing, leaving toys to be stepped on and broken.

Weeds in the garden where I started to plant a bleeding heart. The flower dead.

Folded laundry on the table undone, almost.

This is life. This is the day. The hour. The second.

I am enamored, breathing in the possibility of joy.

Content with questions, only God Knows.

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