It Can Wait

Your house will be clean, someday
when tiny feet leave
no more muddy footprints
and sticky fingers at last
are cleaned.

When your floor is no longer a patchwork
of blocks, books, and kite string,
the laundry finally finished, lying neat
in tidy drawers—clothes outgrown, smelling
of must and the memory of summer giggles.

When the carpet is finally vacuumed, free
from a thousand crumbs caked
under the table, and the windows boast
no streaks from damp faces and hands.

Someday.

So take the walk, read just one more book—
bake cookies and trip to the library.

These hearts aren’t small forever—the laundry can wait.

RAELEA SUTTON is a wordsmith and visual artist hailing from Dallas, Texas, where she lives with her husband and their two-year-old son. She works part-time from home as a writer and editor, and loves trips to the library and long hikes in the woods. Their house runs on Jesus, creativity, and strong cups of coffee.

Photo by Raelea Sutton