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