I’ll wash the sheets and make the bed
The dog with muddy paws
I’ll wash the sheets and make the bed
The daughter returning from abroad
I’ll wash the sheets and make the bed
Mine and my lover’s tryst
I’ll wash the sheets and make the bed
My parents’ next, last visit
A week from Thursday,
I’ll wash the sheets
when no one else will feel them.
I’ll wash the sheets and make the bed. Cool and crisp against the skin.
And when I’m slow, and pale, and tired, I’ll make the bed
And then I will climb in.