Bedbug meditations

 1. Trudging to the laundromat, de-bedbugging
 The full moon hung like a wafer in the sky,
full and unbelievably bright, her shyness having fallen away,
and I, trudging with my contaminated clothes,
bathed in the cleanness of her light,
in the strength of her ancestral song.
And on she rose.
 2. In the laundromat, the last load
 Americans own a lot of fabric
and I’m not just talking clothes –
slippers and rugs and blankets
and stuffed animals and bathrobes:
it literally took days to get everything clean
and I’m on the last twenty minutes of the last load,
surprised that the ending is bittersweet, actually,
as my laundromat sanctuary is pushing me back into the world,
© Meisaan Chan

About Meisaan Chan
This entry was posted in Poetry, Spiritual poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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