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.