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  

Behind suburban houses   in playful turns
& fleet flips   we’d slip our arms into shirtsleeves  
or bulge bedsheets like sails for ships   
if ever we wanted to hide in plain sight

Does such frivolity  strike you
as unbecoming to angels of light?  
Know   then   we continually dwell in joy  
& when love calls us   we respond with what’s right