Current Issue Excerpts


Pegging out

The indoor line
dries sullen, planks jeans,
towels are sandpaper, sheets standoffish,
socks stunted shells. Cotton needs motion
to dry to softness.
     But the dryer grumbles
with noise and static, things cling
or are perfumed fluorescent.

Today you crave
the outdoors. You lug the load,
damp in basket, to the yard, and peg
shadows of legs, arms, echoes of feet.
Wind-channelled sunshine,
breath of breeze wins over, moisture
     Fabric yields
to drape shoulders, skirts swirl in soft pleats, buttons
slide out of buttonholes. T-shirts nuzzle
like jersey. Sheets billow and fill,
brush your face, wrap hips, shins.

Their touch is shivery.

FRANCES BOYLE is the author of the poetry books Light-carved Passages (2014) and This White Nest (forthcoming in fall 2019), as well as Tower, a novella (2018). Her poems and short stories have received awards and appeared in literary magazines and anthologies throughout Canada and in the US. Frances lives and writes in Ottawa.

«back to Current Issue