Washday

Breathless and surprised, we'd run
All the way up from the hill,
Hand in hand the way we used to do
In my mother's yard - out and out
And in between the curtained shirts
And socks and pillowcases
Of another week, our faces fresh
And cool with the crush
Of newly wrung-out dew
Against our cheeks.
          I remember how
I sent you tumbling once
Into a sudden sheet. Rolled-up there
In the grass, your hair and eyes
Entangled in your arms, you looked
Like some half-wakened butterfly
Caught between a startled laugh
And yawn.

The lights go out on the other shore.
Tousled, sleepyheaded butterfly,
I hold you closer, let my hand brush
Through your hair and to that half-shrugged
Shoulder leaning against my own.
Now, for a while, your eyes catch mine,
And all the evening sky becomes
This heaven's clothesline strung with mist
And stars.


8 comments:

  1. You tell some amazing stories in your poetry. It felt like I was there observing it all. Beautifully written!

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  2. Very nice. This write brings back memories of my own mother and her clothes line. It was fun going through the hung clothes...like a maze.

    Beautiful!

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  3. Wonderful thoughts, thank you

    Short link - http://bit.ly/s4washday

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  4. Very beautiful! Much enjoyed this one....I see I've missed quite a few, however often think of you and your beautiful writng. Excellent

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  5. Samuel - beautiful, childlike and romantic all wrapped up in one wistful sheet off the clothesline

    Hugs my friend hope all is well

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  6. very impressive write.

    contribute to poets rally today.
    Smiles.

    ReplyDelete

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