laundry line meditations

wendell and i commune outside the laundry door
my feet planted softly in the dewey grass
back warming in the gentle morning sun

i move up and down by the basket
stretching wide sheets and
smoothing faded t-shirts
across the sagging lines

from some part of my memory
wendell speaks
lilting lines
songs of earth and sun and field

in the rhythm of my work
i take pleasure
and feel joy

these damp garments
smell beautiful
(like redemption)

the shiny dryer sits
abandoned

and I worship you
with this small kiss for creation
hanging my laundry
in your good sunshine