A Lobelia Sky

Lobelia breaks my heart
with its beauty.
It is the color of hanging the wash
on the line
to the tune of morning’s hush,
the perfume of just-waking air
and the sibilant gossip of small birds.

The sun brushes my hair and shoulders
like an admiring mother
as I pin up the towels and cloths
to be made white
by its magic.

There is something sacred
in the walled garden of the wash,
the free pass that lets the housewife . . .
out of the house . . .
in the guise of work.

Oh what a wonderful ruse this is!
Revelment among the percale!!!
                                                             -Marcia Myers