Summer Sheets

I finally hung the bed linens on the line the other day--I think summer is coming at last!  I delighted in those few minutes outside.  It slowed me down just a little, so that I felt the breeze and smelled the lilacs blooming.

Here's a poem I wrote in 2007 about this simple chore, entitled "Summer Sheets."

Summer Sheets

         Summer sheets, hung to sun dry,

                 are not the same as winter sheets.

                          Oh, no!

         Winter sheets are fluffed in sterile dryers,

                 to be crisply folded before they settle sleepily into the

  closet,       

                           ready for their next use,

                          tucked among spare blankets and extra pillows.

         But summer sheets wave and flap in the gentle wind.

         They snap and dance as I hum happily,

                 pinning them in chorus lines to dry.

         They tease, slapping my behind or my face

                 when I lean down to pick up another.

         I nuzzle into their sweet, cool fragrance

                 over and over with deep breaths;

                          they tenderly brush my hot cheeks.

         Between their rows the day is fresher and

                  secret, somehow.

         I can hear my children playing in the sandbox nearby,

                 but for a moment,

                          I’m wandering near a shaded mountain lake

                          with a cool zephyr wafting me wild roses.

                          Nancy Nielson

June 2007