Day 2: Evening

1 Timothy 2

"I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God..."

Between the broken doors leading to the spacious home
and the city blacktop beckoning to the sensuous beyond,
i began to build.

Piles of Tennessee Bluestone, thrown on sandy assurances
of quantity and smiles of the choicest quality, half modestly
you accept banter and praise.

Saturdays frame anticipation, raise the expectations.
Dirty nails, spreading sand, dumping wheelbarrows of braided grass,
i am meditative, you are beauty.

True, singularly i saw you, focused you as the centerpiece because of
that rippled ridge of orange and rust tinting your edge like an
exposed photo, bent corners crinkled.

Unique and deep you drew me, but when you were secured and entrenched
i unearthed a new attraction: your strength that held my maze stable,
a confidence in your surety.

Where i perceive shifting silt and lack, i can lead forth and stand,
your value an immutable foundation. Not always dazzling jewels but a foothold
from where i proceed.