Pile

The alarm rings

my arms outstretch

they are quickly filled

dirty laundry

dirty dishes

spilled milk that tiny eyes are crying over

”hush now” I whisper,

to her or to me is anyone’s guess

hem pants

grocery run

switch the clothes

reheat the now cold forlorn cup of coffee

homework time

relearn fractions

praise the lord for google

and calculators

… and teachers said we’d never get to carry one

around in our pockets

everywhere

make dinner

while answering “what’s for dinner”

seven times seven times seven

clean the kitchen

order the chores

battle hygiene

wrestling a tiny human alligator into PJs

while giving a dissertation

on the importance of deodorant

and wearing

pants

My arms, overflowing and weary

drop

the heavy load

for a moment

and fill with piles of pink

soap scented skin

Hold tight or you’ll miss it!

I breathe it all in,

then release,

and pick up all the weight

again.