(Photo credit Esquire)
Today's poem is based, loosely, on an article in The Salt Lake Tribune. The article is basically about Utah and marriage. It discusses a bit of Mormon history, and the main thesis is that Utah seems to always be on the ground level when it comes to both defining and legalizing marriage. There was a word used toward the end of the article, though, that caught my eye -- fabric. Seems everywhere you turn today people are talking about Polygamy. There are TV shows and images around every corner. If you've ever been to Utah, my guess is that you've encountered women with long, homemade dresses playing in a park with their family, or picking up some essentials at a local Walmart. When I read the word fabric, I pictured an image similar to the ones I've seen from various shows and encounters, like the one above, and wrote the following.
Hemline
Pebbles and stickers accumulate
Dirt and syrup mix to make a crusty, pasty substance
Good for nothing
So low to the ground you don't notice until you take it off later
Undressing, you start to wash a load of clothes,
Detergent, homemade with a bit of added rosemary and sage
Grandmother says it will warn off spirits and keep you in the mood for cooking food
What did she know about the collections found on too-long hemlines in the grass?
Roses in the distance recall the days of spring
Water droplets fresh and stuck
Clinging on to the smooth surface they know so well
Too cliche to say we all have thorns like the roses here above
Instead watch the droplets happy to get to smell the sweet fragrance all day,
In no hurry to jump or get ahead
She blows out the candle that was burning at both ends
satisfied, she goes to bed
Rocky cliffs in the distance sing a nighttime song
Sweet voice of sky and moon
Nature's lullaby,
Laundry on the line brings smells of sage and rosemary
The drying hemline
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