morning. i am still
listening to the moon.
when we cannot find the day’s center,
we change the sheets,
create a ballooned fort of warmth
and clothes-pinned sun.
nothing else is solvable
or solvent, perhaps.
but we marvel in percale perfection,
crisp beige corners.
..
A second offering for this week’s Quadrille. Also shared over at twiglets. What’s a twiglet? Come and see!
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
Ah, the smell of sun-dried sheets! Thanks for taking me there. (I’m glad the tip to use Firefox helped with your problems in commenting!)
OhmyGOSH. So grateful! So many blogspots out there, and I was going crazy. Now I just cut and paste the address into Firefox, and use that instead. Thank you!
Nice technique: “when we cannot find the day’s center,
we change the sheets,”
Love the images of: create a ballooned fort of warmth
and clothes-pinned sun.
Love “percale perfection”!
I’ve been listening to the moon in the morning a lot lately. Maybe I should try changing the sheets…the images and memories your poem elicited are gorgeous! Brought a warm snuggle to my day. Thank you!
Ooh, clothes-pinned sun. Beautiful.
That second stanza is wonderful.
Sheets right out of the dryer… smell wonderful (or off a line dried by the sun).
Any sheet or blanket for an indoor tent city… priceless.
Oooo very nicely done!
I do love fresh sheets… the scent and the sense make me want to go to bed.