I miss the days when I’d help my grandmother
Those were the days like no other
Hang the freshly washed clothes out in the sun to dry on the line
I used to enjoy helping her all the time
They’d gently wave back and forth in the summer breeze for hours
While we would gaze at her tall colorful flowers
And we would return to get them when they were dry.
After we ate ice cream and blackberry pie
The clothes always smelled like a fresh spring morning
So nothing about this task was ever boring
We’d notice as we folded and put them away
That it was always quite late in the day
Cynthia Long
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/summer-memories-5/
