Washtub
There are clothes hanging on a clothes line
Someone’s dirty laundry now made clean
garments are worn thin
being scrubbed and wrung and squeezed
the life dripping back into the wash bin
Only to be poured out again
new water needed for the rinse
I walk among them
stainless and stiff
The washtub waits for me
a backwards baptism
I kneel before it
staring at my reflection
not fighting the hand that pushes against the back of my head
I wonder how clean I’ll get
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I love “The washtub waits for me/a backwards baptism”