Image courtesy of Oktaviani Marvikasari at www.freeimages.com

LAUNDRY

Sunday morning.
Sheets muddled by broken sleep.
Counted sheep.
Awake, in darkness; down the steep.
Stairs.

Drapes open, sunlight spreads.
Caresses threads.
Once next our heads.
On feather pillows.

Palms on bed.
Hands flat, fingers spread.
Lingering heat from my forehead
Moments flicker wildly.

Tugging gently, day dreaming.
Sunlight beaming.
Room’s air teeming
With dust moats.

Downstairs once more
Open door.
Water pours, gently
The last tinge of passion drains away.