SUNDAY MORNING, OFF THE COAST OF MAINE

 The basement Laundromat is deserted
I fill both machines, then head upstairs
to the Black Duck for a scone and chai.
I sit at the cribbage table, watch
the day wander in.

 
There is gypsy jazz playing, Django Reinhardt style,
its foot-tapping rhythm contagious. Arline and Mo
sit at the next table. We talk about Barcelona, Gaudi,
his Sagrada Familia, Japanese baseball. The tables
so close, everyone chimes in an opinion.

 
It’s time to move the wash to the dryer.
I pull out things to hang on the line,
make my way back through the small bustle
of dogs and dog toys to the pew by the window
as the church bell rings its call to prayer.

 
Marilyn Ringer
Reprinted from Island Aubade
Finishing Line Press
PO Box 1626, Georgetown KY, 40324

Also available from The Black Duck and Amazon.com