he folds towels to horizontal squares
mound stacks them approximate
haphazard…any which…upon a shelf
size irrelevant…except utility
of indoor outdoor…kitchen bath
or car and window
she folds linens supple lengthwise
top to bottom arm stretch long way
spread longitudinal…aligns corners
proportional for use…communion table
priest precise as if their separation mattered
long years they played this game
of stubborn mind and peckish humor
other issues…willful to their natures
they would not bend into each other,
would not apportion different need
so…
they unfolded into a world
alienated… where stranger
boundaries were chaos
and…
his horizontal…her longitudinal
no longer give them certainty
Bonnie Marshall
Artwork: Unknown
Beautiful!
Thank you, Nancy! Thought you would like it. Smiles…
the tone i feel from this poem is kind of funny but very sad. it’s a little funny because the issue is so petty, although it probably masks deeper resentments. it’s very sad because their inability to “bend into each other” makes for a sad relationship which creates chaos for them. your phrase “bend into each other” is a fine example of a poetic metaphor that somehow makes perfect sense “between the lines.”
How valuable and welcome are your insights, Michael. Never doubt their importance for me to gauge reader take away. Bless you for your intelligence and kindness.