When considering France, a land so chic,
It is easy to over look the laverie automatique.
Rows upon rows of machines to share,
Wash your clothes within, if you dare.
How much will this cost? 2 euro, maybe 3?
Non, non, Mademoiselle, "4 euro" the signs indicate with glee.
"You know, you don't have to separate your lights from your darks."
But I do, old lady, else my white shorts will have marks.
And so I sit patiently and wait for my washing,
Listening in the quiet to the water sloshing.
Glad to have brought with me, a book, for distraction,
When 30 minutes are up, I jump to action.
Never convinced that my belongings are clean,
I am nervous to dry my clothes in the lint filled machine.
An uncomfortable experience, my washing I do postpone,
I long for the day when I have a machine of my own.
No comments:
Post a Comment