Full sink
Low on plates and spoons
Slow sorting into rows,
One plate at a time,
Brush, brush, brush.
Eventually,
The sink is too full
Plates running out,
Reusing the cat’s sacred clear plates for wet food,
The practice of pushing most of it to the floor.
Actually, tackling the dishes.
Filling the dishwasher,
The appliance we so could have used in Maine.
Getting the silverware in.
Closing the door.
The dishwasher cascades,
Singing its song,
The sink still waiting now half full,
For the song to end.