Spring days, the sun, the lively breeze,
Bring spurts of energy;
The rustling of the new-clothed trees
Puts feet on memory.
In fall, before frost ravaged plants,
And cold winds chilled the spine,
We enjoyed the ambiance
Of sheets dried on the line.
The billowing, flapping dance performed,
Made homey ways seem fine.
What sweet and fragrant rest is warmed,
Mid sheets dried on the line.
Noticing wind wafts where it will,
Frees stuck spots in my mind,
And new spring plans join in the thrill,
With sheets dried on the line.
©05/11/2012 Carol Morfitt Welch