It gets dirty over time
soiled by history, upturned endings,
unexpected overflows into tomorrow.
Stains of resentment, practiced disbelief,
and heartbreak headlines get into the fabric.
It loses it's luster with living.
Launder your hope often
with practice you will begin to notice
when it's time for cleansing
a cycle of care
soaps of forgiveness scented
rinsing of kindness
freeing the unneeded past
in a small, generous bucket.
Let it line dry
on its own sunlight time
without watching your clock
returning to softness, colors revealed
by evening's renewable breeze.
And now I wonder why
there isn't a small label with clear directions
for it's care?
What information could be more important
to keep your heart open?
© Ali Grimshaw 2023
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