Lines
by Adrian Gibbons Koesters
Nuns are hanging out wash on a line
A threepenny hymnal unfolds in the wind
Nuns are hanging out wash on a line
Knees are bending out sins in a line
Confessions buzz soft on a Saturday morn
Knees are bending out sins in a line
Schoolgirls are skipping down scotch in a line
All are named Mary but some are named Jane
Schoolgirls are skipping down scotch in a line
New mums are knocking back shots in a line
Their stockings hold tickets the dads never see
New mums are knocking back shots in a line
Taxis are passing up men in a line
Harlequin hands waving empty and wet
Taxis are passing up men in a line
Raindrops are riding down glass in a line
A princess is sodden inside of your shoes
Raindrops are riding down glass in a line
Snow geese are flying off wings in a line
If your birthday could fall in November, it would
Snow geese are flying off wings in a line
As your transit walks up to its place in the line
A hand is held out with your hat in its thumb
The crook of its finger will enter your soul
As your transit steps up to its place in the line
Copyright © 2002 by Adrian Gibbons
Koesters