Palmolive Days

Palmolive days spent
reminiscing amidst
sudsy yellow bubbles
lemony scent wafting
childhood into adulthood as
sunshine tiles gleam under
bare feet the view from my
Nonnie’s white porcelain sink
blue green some days a misty
gray always beautiful salty
grainy life a tea cup
awaiting the faucet a saucer
sunken anticipating the
sponge immersed in citrus to
cleanse away  grime

Pamela A. Rossow

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10 thoughts on “Palmolive Days”

  1. I bet your hands are smooth and soft too from all that Palmolive! I often feel like a tea cup awaiting the faucet. But I’m not sure the ring around my soul can be washed off.

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