The soapy water works its magic, and things that were stuck begin to soften. I lift the next set of dishes into the sink. Remnants of food STICK to the PLATE like so much abstract art. I lazily scrub, enjoying the slippery suds and feel of the sharp forks, dull knives, and wide plates. It’s nice to be old-fashioned, not running a MOTOR or using electricity. I pick up the next plate, pushing the TROUT bones and skin into the trash. I hear through the window the roar of a lawn mower, the contrast to my quiet occupation as sharp as if a fleet of airplanes had started up, TURBO engines going full throttle.

Georg’ann

ROUGH patches abound
PROUD of efforts, many
moments, overlapping
OUTER self greets each one
Fueled by TURBO charged heart
Inner self ready for collapse

Heather