23 August 2018

bowties and buttons and bunnies and stripes.

it is doing the wash, and it is more.

looking 'round, our nest above the trees all aflutter with blankets and bonnets, white onesies and burp cloths — like peace flags, like prayer flags, like a flight of doves, all in a row.

doing the wash. a sacred ritual. a love language.
padding feet: hardwood become holy ground.
every sort, a caught breath.
every scrub, a prayer of gratitude.
every fold, a recognition.
every toss atop the wooden drying rack, a single glittering thought:

a baby lives here. 

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