for women who live on cul de sacs
Even the most capacious bath towels fold
into squares, and the wash cloths fold
into smaller squares. Pants meet themselves
and quiet down nicely. Underwear
resigns itself, socks domesticate, and the shirts,
well, the shirts get wrinkled.
They’ll have plenty of time to relax
dreaming through hours a rumor of buttons.
Which is not to say shirts meditate, but
there’s almost a Zen to the job, if that weren't so trendy.
Almost the little sand garden with its rake
and its rock. Its imagined snake.
Sarah Busse co-edits Verse Wisconsin, and she is the author of two chapbooks: Quiver (Red Dragonfly Press, 2009) and Given These Magics (Finishing Line Press, 2010). Her full-length collection of poetry, Somewhere Piano, will be published by Mayapple Press in 2012.