An angel laughs about laundry
after Wilbur
If ever we wanted to hide in plain sight
it would be out in the pure light
of washday where the homebound hope
the soap & sun will wash away each stain
Unashamed they air their laundry luminous & white
strung from building to balcony at unlikely heights
where we’d fly amid flapping frocks & smocks
& bright billowing blouses far above other earthly concerns