Nonsense

Life’s work can be summed up by the laundry basket.

It sits before me undisturbed, full, beckoning without words to be emptied, cleaned of impurities and made whole again.

After a while it’s clear some stains can’t be removed and though there are things that bring comfort after years of wear, they eventually fall apart and away.

There are phases when it seems that fresheners might make a difference in appearance but it doesn’t take too long to realize that how you smell to yourself and how you smell to others is never a perfect fit.

I get sad watching it pile up because after so many cycles it seems nothing is ever new.