Sorting
stray shingles under the clothesline sandpapery wet corners curling
rust-coloured rug in the laundry room soaked
last night’s wind and rain
along the garage wall the raspberries droop weighting the bramble some fallen
how the ripe berry looses itself from its white core
red drupelets seeding the wet grass
tapestry handbag yellow silk pin cushion carried from the house in laundry baskets
this for Seniors Thrift Store that for Saron Lutheran’s Rummage Sale
under the garage window its soft liminal light
the morning fresh on the porch steps close along the railing the familiar-unparsed shapes
Mom’s non-slip treads, scrolls within ovals within rectangles to fit
each stair each foot-fall
____________
Sue Chenette