The low hum of the dryers out weighed the sound of my soul
The howling within weakened with every breath
Every beat, in time with the thump of the washer
Life seemed hard
Unclean
Like much of what was within the four walls where I sat
My bones were tired
My soul ached
It longed for peace and clean clothes
Being an adult should be easy, like a summer breeze, one that carried jasmine and not detergent
Clean clothes I thought as I watched the cycle spin
It’s what everyone deserves
Like clean air, food, and a cup of tea
Clean clothes
So mote it be
Written July 31, 2025
Published: January 02, 2026
Photo by Adrienne Andersen
