Sorting

Laura McCoy '08

I should sort through the shirts in my closet

To clear space for some extra winter clothes.

I step back, squint, and watch a composite

Of daffodils, violets, docks, and a rose.

I flip past blue sky and brown oak-

Do you try to think about you and I,

Lounging? I wanted to let the sun soak

You away, before hands came to the thigh-

Sweaters, old tank tops and collared short sleeves.

Haven’t seen this Christmas blouse since after-

You picked me an orchid complete with leaves.

Ringing off the trees and stone walls, laughter

No longer echoes off the emptiness

That fills me and my winter closet mess.