Sunday, November 30, 2014

A Week of Gratitude: Laundry

Like kites sometimes, airborne.

The laundry room at Green Gulch, which is always comforting to walk through, on our way to soup and bread or to the gardens and the trail past horses to the ocean.

The intensely yellow laundry basket in the hall at the hospice on the St. Bernard Pass, reflecting on the surface of the old polished gray stone.

The laundry line under the pines, which made me happy to regard while writing and drinking cold sencha tea.

The poem I’m not remembering about dancing with a clean nightgown or shirt as dancing partner, in the moonlight or sunlight, and the delight in that.


p.s.  I''ve been reminded that the poem I was trying to remember, and remembered so insufficiently, is Richard Wilbur's wonderful "Love Calls Us to the Things of This World" 
Read it and rejoice!!

image:  Christie B. Cochrell, Venetian Laundry

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