Maggie Koger

Tore our old sheets to strips today
Their Egyptian cotton worn
Gauzy remnants of wedded nights
We lay snuggled in aureate folds
Banning the dark from our dreams
Our blowzy forms like inversions
Waiting for the sun-god’s fire.

Rectangles of cotton strips snipped
Caught onto a floor swifter and
Me like a maid with a lissome mop.
I’ll dance across the bedroom floor
Once a week gleaning the dust
Clearing a harbor for moonlight.
I’ll sing and open a window
Airing our silky new sheets
Hoping we’ll hear a nightingale,
Caroling his happy goodnight air.