Pink Pantsuit
It hangs around the wardrobe
for days, dull,
or reclines in the hamper
like a flattened flamingo.
I wash it in soft water.
I give it new life, and what thanks?
It walks out the door with my legs,
through the gate,
headed straight for the racetrack.
Copyright Credit: Poem copyright ©2010 by Nancy Simpson from her most recent book of poems, Living Above the Frost Line, Carolina Wren Press, 2010. Poem reprinted by permission of Nancy Simpson and the publisher.