<-- BACK

A Day for Laundry
words and music by Matt Abell
©2004 All rights reserved
 

Blue jeans
hang on the clothesline
father’s and mine
and we’re waiting
watching the ballgame
in our underwear
Sundays
my mother washes
everything we need
it’s her way of
keeping us near her
keeping us at home
 
the Nevada heat
weighs us down like a stone
up and down the street
neighbors reach for a beer
we all have our ways
to escape living here
but it’s home
 
Blue shirts
under the iron
father’s and mine
mother scrubs
the sweat from his collar
that bleach could not erase
wrinkles
furrow her forehead
sweat soaks her brow
she reminds him
that their last vacation
was on her honeymoon
 
the Nevada heat
weighs us down like a stone
up and down the street
neighbors reach for a beer
we all have our ways
to escape living here
but it’s home
 
Blue light
bathing our bodies
father’s and mine
father’s fallen
asleep on the sofa
a beer still in his hand
Rising
I turn off the TV
follow mom upstairs
where she hands me
armfuls of laundry
and love to last the night
 
the Nevada heat
weighs us down like a stone
up and down the street
neighbors reach for a beer
we all have our ways
to escape living here
but it’s home

      <-- BACK