laundry list
everything needs to be redone
a sigh escapes
a tangled mess
the kitchen sink to be replaced
ceramic or steel or granite
she just can’t decide
roses or tulips
the decision hangs
unwanted lilies having taken over
a neglected garden
the rusted shovel stuck in the tundra
a winter’s white flag
paint flaking off the wooden handle
a silent cry for spring’s embrace
dining room table
wounded & unbalanced
missing a leg
the california king a watery betrayal
soaks dreams in its silent leak
even the man door
guardian of the garage
stands defiant w/its broken latch
they’ll get right on it
but a hollow refrain
echoing throughout the cluttered day
but as for now the list remains
a silent weight
a weary maze
march two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved





