Just One Pair

Your underpants are on the line

though you have gone into a different state

I've noticed this summer hasn't been too bad-

Weather and mood wise

The clouds are stopping the winter's mosses

from drying out and the

frequent rains are helping the butterflies,

moths and grasshoppers breed like

nothing I have seen since 1984

I have forgotten how the spikes of grass seed

itch once embedded in socks

and how the flies swarm before and after the warm rains

but never during

and your underpants are on the line

just one pair

immersed with and next to mine

though I know they are yours

they have a sad heaviness to them

like your hand when wrapped in mine

I only wear them when I have to as they

are a little too big

and they have your sad aura in their elastic

which overcomes me when ever I wear them

They are a great metaphor for you

ageing, faded and unsupportive

I think I would like to throw them out

but I know I like using them on odd occasions

Like I like phoning you late at night

every once in a while

I've never mentioned to you that I have them

for fear of you wanting them returned

or some other silly reason

and then what would I have?

the mossy rocks of winter

and the insects of summer

this gloriously cool summer

with its softly blowing winds

that push your underwear towards me

as they hang upon the line