Clothesline

Clothesline

Blue jeans with stubborn garden dirt
clinging to the cuffs. Waist 38.
Three pairs of dinosaur pajamas-
little wild boy stains down the front of each.
Sweet polka dot two piece
no bigger than the placemat it's pinned to.
My own favorite white tee announcing
to the family of sparrows over the garage
"not all who wander are lost"
as if the birds didn't already know.


Faded red placemats, underwear for us all.
A green and yellow gauze skirt
clings desperately to sturdy brown walking shorts.
A dozen napkins rise and flap together like doves.

Held fast by beautiful invention,
-how we love our purposeful things-
these, our random suburban prayer flags,
surrender to July heat.


We add ours to the colorful others-
in varied poignant stages of exposure-
crossing rivers and valleys in Kathmandu;
our denim and gauze variety no less sacred
for having covered our bodies
while we work & grow.
Standing in the mowed grass,
arms lifted to the noonday sun,
we arrive at this line and offer wishes for the world.
This is how we pray.