Poetry: Sponge Days

sponge-62721_1280

some days
I seem to be a sponge
sadly not the sea-born sort
that rests now on my bathtub rim
there to scrub my skin with suds
then lie still again

 

Iโ€™m not even the kind
dually designed
with sides to scrub and wipe
to wash the dishes and clean the counters
and earn its sleep each night

 

I feel like the faded one
used to clean everything else
wrung to weightless dryness
one
more
squeeze
and I will fall apart
one
last
swipe
and I will fade away

 

because home wasn't built in a day

Sponge Days, copyright Meredith C. Jackson, 2019
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