Murisopsis’s poetry scavenger hunt prompt #12: Write a Jay’s Way or a poem using a bird metaphor. I’m keenly aware that discontent with one’s washing machine is small in the scheme of things, although I really miss my old front-loader (today’s larger models won’t fit in the space we have), and the lint I reference is a lot, and it just makes me want to go waaaahhhh.
a trough of despond
small sorrows
I can’t see beyond
I’m missing how things were–before covid, before my parents died, before a lot of other changes that have taken place in my/our world. Peace to our ♥s!
Remembrance of Things Past
Pathetic,
to miss a washing machine:
top loader, front loader, both get the clothes clean,
but the lint on the screen is more now,
and I don’t care how
there are loads
of abodes
where women handwash
and air-dry day in, day out. By gosh,
I’m tired of adjusting! There’s been too much change,
mixed feelings to rearrange.
I’m homesick.
Green Bowl
Yellow Bowl
Red Bowl
Blue
I don’t
forget
Dad bought
the set
at my
behest
per Mom’s
request
for bowls
with lips
to catch
the drips.
Though I’m
now grown
and long
since flown
they still
provide
a sense
of pride
because
(well done!)
I was
the one
the little bird
who told him.
Serendippity 
Stephanie! These are both so very good! I can commiserate re the front load vs the top loader… But that second poem hit me square in the heart. I remember helping my dad pickout Christmas gifts for my mother…. (Hugs)
Thank you, Muri. This was a Mother’s Day gift. I’m assuming he got her more than the bowls!
The simplest of things can often provide the greatest sense of accomplishment and pride.
Yes. The memory of helping my dad pick out this Mother’s Day gift for my mom is even more meaningful than knowing my mom used the bowls. They’re the one thing I knew I wanted from my parents’ house.
Do you have them? If so, please show them to us.
Hi, Judy. I just added a small photo of the bowls to the post. If you go to my website again, you’ll see it there. :)