clematis

honeysuckle

the tiller and the trespasser

There is
in the blossoming of honeysuckle—
God. Sweet in its embrace,
it does not distinguish
nor deny.

a wash

She’d never learned to sort her laundry
choose between the silk, damask or denim.
Never thought to keep the dark from lights
or hang her delicates to dry.

She never bothered to lay
sweaters out upon a toweled bed.
She only kept her bra straps closed
to prevent snagging on her lace.