On the Line

I am not immune

to a little magical thinking

but I no longer see

myself playing the hero

of my life’s story,

more an accidental protagonist

hanging laundry

on a perfect September Saturday.

This is what I see from above:

his thinning hair,

how he bends toward the basket,

the clothes flapping in the wind,

fabricky facsimiles of headless torsos,

of pairs of empty legs and buttocks,

hollow feet and ankles mismatched.

No longer the wind

or even golden pollen borne on it,

I am these various wind-snapped clothes

pinned to the line, hung out to dry.

Advertisements

About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to On the Line

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s