Love Letter To a Laundry Basket



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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