Dropped off the dishwasher at the tip today
Heavy with Baby no. 1 I got that machine to
Lighten the domestic burden and to
Free me for Very
Important
Stuff
Like not doing the washing up
365 days times nine
Must be a lot, 3000 perhaps, give or take
Hours, perhaps more
Of a co-creativity,
That hum and splosh,
Swoosh of watery cleanliness so I could bake or
clean or
drive the kids somewhere
Oh, Dishwasher
Your magic was not to free me of the shackles of domesticity
As you can see I am chained by more than just dishes
But to be my friend
A friend in the kitchen you were
The voices of women through time
Arms deep in suds and
Raw hands praying to the Goddess of freedom for
those who were to shackle themselves next in line
I can hear their voices in your rumble
Farewell, as I drive away
Good, beautiful little machine I
Thank you
Nwyfre 