Vestal virgin I the door
stand among others
in the home improvement store.
I'm to have an angel’s role
with spread of wing to block intrusive wind
the uninvited eyes of men.
I witness careless words, conspiracies, the petty peeves
relieved at length by wink, by laughter, palms of peace.
I blush to see the wild and wet of passion’s tangled limbs
approach of little feet, the passion dimmed.
My dismay at brooding hunch
the huddled hands that pen a parting note.
At times I’ve only stillness days on end
when floating motes assemble on my edge.
I’ve seen a mum give voice to her exhausted joy
there glowing moist a little girl ... and boy.
Yet I’m no midwife, chamber maid or priest.
Unhinge me now and trestle spread a feast.