I was looking at those thin, left
over, blades of soap by the sink
this morning, wondering and
remembering. I like to use rather
expensive, hand-made soaps, and
being from the 50's, don't like to
throw them out. 'Twas then I had
a childhood vision, as it were. My
mom used to put them in the foot
of a nylon stocking, tie it up and cut
off the excess. Into the old Maytag
washer, they would go. When the
gyrations sufficed, she would lift out
the bag and begin the rinse process.
(I feel like bowing down and worshiping
my automatic washer and dryer, make
no mistake!) So, here's to those pesky
little pieces, those inescapable bits . . .
old bits and pieces
all washed down the drain again
pray gift me some new
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