previously posted poem that i have virtually misplaced

“Laundry List”

Piles of clean clothes

dirty clothes

white clothes

(grey from not using bleach clothes)

colored clothes

wet clothes

dog-haired and dusty from being on the floor clothes

Clean them Dry them Dump

them on my bed

Sort them

My clothes His clothes

their clothes

hang-up clothes

drawer clothes

underwear socks linens for the closet making

piles and finally delivering

put mine away

put some of his away

put all of theirs in a basket and

dump it in their


on the floor

Someday they’ll decide

to fold their own clothes

but now they can practice

just making piles

underwear socks shirts and sheets

and pants and pajamas

and then just stuff it all in

their drawers

or walk on them for a few days.


(Kathleen C Cooper, March 12 1993)


This is the time of year when the starlings flock.

I can’t help but inspire deeply and quickly

with quickened heart, and smile

when they are wakening in the morning,

firing from their eaves

or whatever lodgings they’d been hiding in,

waiting to ambush our very existence at first light

loudly – insistently – rousing each other and

anyone lucky enough to have an open window, able to enjoy the event with

a morning coffee.

But I love it best when

starlings flock at dusk,

when the crescent moon reclines and

the sky comes into lavender blue perfection – the hue

of periwinkles and heliotropes.

Singing, they flock and gather… a blanket of dreams o’er a cloth of day’s tales,

a thrilling signal that all should hurry

home for nightfall –

hurry home to loved ones and favorite places.

Evening, now, goodnight.

-kathleen c cooper. october 1, 2012