Morning Chores

There's something contemplative about putting laundry on the line.

The brisk, autumn air is crisp, clean, fresh, like those sheets will be 

when I take them down later.

The early December sky is iridescent blue, like a child's eyes, full of wonder.

The morning sun presses against my back through the black sweatshirt - warm - like a lover's hand.

Hanging the clothes is slow work.  

You can't rush through it.

You just have to do it.

Fold the cloth over the line;

Pin one side

And, then, the other;

Reach into the basket for another item.

Repeat.

When I want to mix things up, I clip two shirt tails with one pin attaching one corner of each to the line.

These are treasured moments.

Slow and steady.

One sock, one pin.

One shirt, two pins.

Two towels, three pins.

Until I run out of clothes to hang or pins to hold them.