Photograph by Igor Ovsyannykov
It is with deep regret that I have to let you know
I have to say it ‘n I hope its not too snide
It breaks my heart as its about something I hold dear
I am sad to say our Washing Machine died.
It lived with us for many a year without a single whimper
No matter what the load it wouldn’t groan
We fed it shirts and football shorts and my smelly socks
It returned them clean without a single moan.
The machine leaves behind a husband and a wife
And two boys who loved it like a brother
May it go to that heaven where Washing Machines go
And though we loved it we’ll replace it with another.
3 comments
Rustom your poems never fail to make me laugh out loud. They elevate the ordinary to something memorable. I remember the first one on meetings to this date and I am sure I would remember this one too.
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