in the wind


i hang the damp
clean clothes on the line
drawn tight from house to garage
into a clothespin bag full of pins
my hand reaches and fingers
wrap around the the wooden
shape smooth all one piece
it slips over the shoulder of
a light blue cotton dress
and holds it to the coated wire
another pin captured from
between my lips
slips over the other shoulder
and the dress dances in the wind
like it did on me
last night

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