Sheets

I am ten
Taking down
Sheets off the clothes
Line in our back yard on an
Autumn Indian Summer day in
Southern Illinois a light breeze is
Blowing and as I lean forward
Against each dry sheet the
Odor of refreshingly clean
Dried cotton clothe fills
My senses with delight
A smell fresh clean as
Only clothes dried on
The line in sunshine
And wind produce
And later at night
I inhale the clean
Fresh smell on
My pillowcase
Amazed how
Pleasant it
Is to fall
Asleep
With
Such a
Scent not
Ever to fade
Or be forgot as
Decades pass and
My kids and students
Do not believe line-dried
Could be better than some
Chemical smell from a dryer.
So much of what we used
To enjoy is gone and too
Long forgot like riding
A horse pulling a
Wagon or your
First crystal
Radio set
You build
Or just
The quiet
Sitting on a
Shaded porch
Swinging reading
Listening to the wind.