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.


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

  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.


  3. Wonderful thoughts, thank you

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

  4. Anonymous1:48:00 AM

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

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

    Hugs my friend hope all is well

  6. very impressive write.

    contribute to poets rally today.


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