Laundry Days

The air hangs thick with summer's golden breath,

a scent of fabric softener, a whisper of warmth.

Mom's laundry danced in the wind, sun-kissed and free,

while I chased shadows on pavement, caught dreams like leaves.

Tangled sheets on a clothesline,

like stories waiting for sun,

filling the air with sweet reminders,

those afternoons steeped in fun.

I recall the way laughter floated,

echoing high past the fence,

woven threads of joy and warmth,

a home held in fragments, suspended in scent.