It is a full day endeavor,
this particular task,
no need of being clever,
and never a need to ask.
I do it because I love it,
the process and final result,
and don’t try to be “above it,”
I belong to the sun-dried sheet cult.
The quilts, the blankets, pillowcases
along with the mattress pads and sheets
stripped and sorted, and put in their places,
then the children all beat their retreats.
Next is the washing and cleaning,
and into the basket with all.
(Who could find this demeaning?
I’m in this for the long haul.)
Then out to the back yard clothesline,
on this brilliant windswept day.
It feels like I’m working on cloud nine,
as the sheets all whip and sway.
Then the folded sheets into the baskets,
and everything has to go back,
pillow cases, quilts and blankets,
And everything is on track.
And I know that it’s not a big deal.
and not how it’s normally done.
but I just love the way that I feel
sleeping in sheets soaked by the sun.
Written for Poetic Asides November Poem-a-Day prompt, _________ Sheet.