Laundry Day

Chill Galician wind.
Rain drenches the Cathedral,
spatters this window.

In my thin raincoat
and blue boxers, I pretend
I am fully dressed.

A soap not my soap
clogs the air. I sneeze;
perfumed lavandaría.

Dark grey, black and blue,
tight cloth knot, a twisted rope,
stain-concealing hues.

Clouds shred apart. Still-
damp pants in my dry bag, then
draped on a frayed line.

Sun breaks. Wool socks steam,
drip on crushed grass. I dream, sweat
in my limp jacket.

Everything orbits,
the tumble that is the world
cycles and cycles.