Doing Laundry
Jan. 28th, 2013 08:45 pmfor
kaph
I always check the pockets of our shirts and pants
before I give them over to the washer
(since between us we’ve decorated I don’t know
how many laundries with our forgotten
kleenex) and more often than not these days
I find in yours the odd half-dozen
sunflower seeds, the loose change of your
forest rambles, where you always take enough
to pause from time to time, hand held out,
for any congregated chickadees to come
alight upon your hand and pluck a daring
snack from off your palm. The cagey ones
just hover and zip off, but others perch
and look around, showing off their boldness.
I always make sure I get them all—not
wanting to waste good seed—before I finish
with the weekly chore. Then, gathering
my take, I scatter them outdoors for whatever
may find and need them. And now I come
to write this down, I wonder if the next time
you are in the woods and fishing for a last
seed somewhere for a persistent hungry
chickadee, if you will think of me, doing laundry,
in much the same way as I think of you
while doing it. Keep looking, I assure you,
there’s almost always still a few more left
for a tiny heart aloft on dainty wings.
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I always check the pockets of our shirts and pants
before I give them over to the washer
(since between us we’ve decorated I don’t know
how many laundries with our forgotten
kleenex) and more often than not these days
I find in yours the odd half-dozen
sunflower seeds, the loose change of your
forest rambles, where you always take enough
to pause from time to time, hand held out,
for any congregated chickadees to come
alight upon your hand and pluck a daring
snack from off your palm. The cagey ones
just hover and zip off, but others perch
and look around, showing off their boldness.
I always make sure I get them all—not
wanting to waste good seed—before I finish
with the weekly chore. Then, gathering
my take, I scatter them outdoors for whatever
may find and need them. And now I come
to write this down, I wonder if the next time
you are in the woods and fishing for a last
seed somewhere for a persistent hungry
chickadee, if you will think of me, doing laundry,
in much the same way as I think of you
while doing it. Keep looking, I assure you,
there’s almost always still a few more left
for a tiny heart aloft on dainty wings.