Sometimes I forget I have it.

It slips beneath some cushions, or behind the bed.

Or, I know I have it,  somewhere,

but can’t remember

exactly where I placed it.  

Sometimes it sits at the bottom of the hamper.

Dirty and discarded.

I just simply do not possess the will

to clean it.

Sometimes, in a fit of anxiety,

or–maybe even the loving,  guiding hand of gods grace,

I fish it out, clean it off,  iron it out

slip it on .

It’s amazing how well it fits.

Even after all this time.

Made just for me.

Exactly what I needed.  

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