So here I am again hanging out clothes
as the sun goes down. I always mis-time that last laundry load
so I’m sending it out on the line into the dark.
I look like a crazy woman doing this.
People hang clothes in the morning.
I know this.
But alone on the back porch hanging up clothes in the dark,
I reason with myself out loud:
What can happen to clothes in the dark air
that we are afraid to leave them overnight?
Will they be gone in the morning
because we let the dark have them?
Will the dark cling to our clothes like vapors,
making us do unpredictable things when we wear them?
I decide I’m past the worrying point.
I’m standing here in the dark hanging up clothes,
talking to myself about whether hanging up clothes
in the dark is going to make me do insane things.
I look at all the things I’ve hung up so far, and figure
they could be made whiter than white with the llight
from the stars. But why waste all that darkness?
I have a blue shirt that faded a bit
the last time it was washed. I hang it up last.
I figure it will soak up a little midnight
and be really stunning by the time the sun comes up.
~from The Spirits Need To Eat (Nine-Patch Press, 1999)
