Poetry by Diane Webster
The wooden clothes pin
bleaches and dries
like a skull
staring wide-eyed
at the sunrise.
Heat steals moisture
from every pour, every grain
like the wooden clothes pin
when it bites linen sheets
and refreshes cells
rationing sips for a week
until next wash day.
About the Poet
Diane Webster grew up in Eastern Oregon before she moved to Colorado. She enjoys drives in the mountains to view all the wildlife and scenery and takes amateur photographs. Her work has appeared in “Canyon Voices,” “WestWard Quarterly,” “Poet’s Espresso,” and other literary magazines.
Vita Brevis Press. 
I like the clever perspective and thought provoking description in this.