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Housewife

When the spiders come

inside, surprised off

the cacti that summered out,

and string up the ceiling,

and lace the white curtain

across in the fine light,

the beauties, I breathe them down.

Unpinned, they fall

into my fine-lipped cup,

the paper lid on

through the whole house

to the sunk garden,

the hopes handed out, and staying out.

from Inside Spiders

Copyright © Persea Books 2013
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Persea Books.

Published in Leslie Shinn Poems

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.

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