FOLDING THE SHEETS...:

Advancing towards each other

from Burma, from Lapland*...:

From India where the sheets have been washed in the river

And pounded upon the stones:

Together we will match the corners.

You and I will fold the sheets.

From Chine where women on either side of the river

Have washed their pale cloth in the White Stone Shallows

 ' Under the shining moon '.

 We meet as though in the formal steps of a dance

To fold the sheets together, to put them to air

 In wind, In sun over bushes, or by the fire.

 We stretch and pull from one side and then the other -

Your turn, Now mine.

We fold them and put them away until they are needed.

 A wish for all people when they lie down to sleep-

Smooth linen, cool cotton, the fragrance and stir of herbs

And faint but perceptlble scent of clear sweet water.

                                        a poem by