each time
I leave pans
to soak
I think of baptism
it is morning
and last night
I did not want
to wrestle and scour
stubborn stuck bits
so I left the pan
in a sink full
of sudsy water
in the dark kitchen
to sleep
now
the stuck and stubborn
bits do not
put up the fight
they had in them
when they seemed unyielding
intransigent
--they wash away easily
and I think of being
dunked in the river
the hopeful lined up
in the hot sun waiting
their stubborn bits
already mellowing
at the promise of how
water dissolves our edges
since we are mostly water
on a planet mostly water
so much of it salty
and how much depends
on the salt water flowing
down my face
washing away the
stubborn stuck bits
the ocean I carry inside
ready to baptize me
into the world's ocean
