Love Letter To a Laundry Basket

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Random things often mean a lot to me and on the day I wrote this poem a laundry basket was the 'object of my affection'...


I saw you in the grass


Shirked on beat up side


Specked sparked in plast


Home to snails, drain flies

 

Of course it wasn’t you


A bold twin, a clone

Your life bathroomed


on a utility throne


Grey purple you are


Sharp orange it was


Same lid and cart


You are, it was


Thirty years I protested


To want one of you


Matured then digested


To use one of you

 

My clothes succeed in you


Each spin a sober step


Symbols of my youth through


So to grass you will not head


- Letitia Prescott

 

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