Poems

Laundry Lines

Tomorrow is not new

On a never ending today
hanged is life
With faded blue clothespins
my hope is suspended
To keep rust stains from forming
I keep checking my shoulder pads
 
Laundries hanged out in the sun
I wish I could be like them
white clean neat fresh
fondling with the wind
Yet sometimes they embarrass you of your actions
The extended hand that went unanswered
emptiness draws blood in my palm
The crucifixion wounds were not from the nails
they were from the betrayal, I realize
 
And yet I let myself go
Once again to happenstance
to be surprised by beauty
I don’t smell of lavender but white soap
at the dawn of the night