I found her
in the folding and unfolding
of a fitted sheet
sharp corners gathered
then disguised
in the elastic roundness
of time
her life will never be
something I can neatly put away
nor would I try —
I need to hold it up to the light
spread my arms wide then
tuck it under my chin
while I pull the edges in
to my chest
in a misshapen square
turning it this way and that,
spreading it on the table or bed
while I sort the rest of
the laundry in my head
How long will ordinary things
remind mind me of her?
©Sandy Knight.6.2018, All Rights Reserved
