A woman stands at her kitchen sink three times a day, washing dishes. On the surface it's plain housework, but the poem hints that the chore is doing something more for her. The washing seems to be a way of holding back tears and keeping unhappy memories at a distance, the "broken wishes" of the title.
The details around her make the picture bleak. There's a cramped "cubbyhole" of a room, cracked linoleum, and a pillow that smells of old disappointment. The pillow suggests she has cried into it, and that private grief lingers in the place where she sleeps. The poem doesn't tell us exactly which wishes were broken, and that silence feels deliberate.
The speaker keeps a quiet, observing distance and never states a feeling outright. What comes through is sadness, confinement, and endurance. The repeated routine makes her days feel small and closed in, yet it also shows how she manages to keep going.