the lost clothespins

the lost clothespins

the smell of the night
a flower opening in the dark
caught in your unpressed
dress of white
cotton and cream
running over saffron
and shoulders
fingers over a man’s shirt
mine pressed still
from work and after you
in field of dark
green and sky so big
you see the earth
curve and miss
it all focusing on your tossing
a man’s shirt
mine ruffle
and billow
fly like a flower caught in
your breath
and the smell of the day’s work
ending and play
mist from the grass
when you and i fall
tumble
flowers and shirts
showering on a clear sky
over us