the poetry in my daily prose - dishwashing

repeatedly
i find myself bound by the laws of daily living
to wash dishes
splashy and noisy and trashy,
it requires attention
to the morsels of existence stuck on the verges of plates
it requires willingness
for the slippery shadows of by now consumed food passions
it requires involvement
with the stubbornness of life's messiness to repeat itself on each fork

and it creates a circle of solitude
for me to be
in it
alone