*the Sacred And The Profane Poem by Lillian Susan Thomas

When it's time to re-enter the outside world,
She arranges her hair,
Covering it with a hat or scarf,
Glances in the mirror and puts on her public smile,
Knocks out shoes before wearing them.
(Brown recluse spiders like to try them on,
Taking the dark moldy dampness
As abandoned as a church on weekdays.)

Garden shoes and work boots,
Sandals and clogs,
Are lined up by the door,
Removed on entering,
For this is her sanctuary.
Padding around the house
In socks that buff the wooden floor -
It gives off that lemon scent -
She breathes deeply of peace,
Lights the candles, strews the flowers.
There is bread dough to knead:
The yeasty smell as it rises like prayers
Is better than incense to describe a halo
Around this place, enshrine it
In the blue glow of the pilot light,
Her Eternal Flame.