Neatly Pressed

I stand here folding wrinkled cotton sheets

the softness soothing on my hands and arms

I think that I want to iron them

iron them smooth

and smell the smell of heat and steam and laundry detergent

I remember being very young

standing on a chair

and my mom teaching me to iron

dad’s starched white hankies 

then moving on to pillow cases

easy to iron

watching mom deftly ironing

dad’s dress shirts

collars first

then sleeves

then the body of the shirt

the clothes were piled high

the radio tuned to a classical station

my mom was not one to be into pop culture

she aspired to higher things

as I grew it became my job

to put the clothes away

hang them in the closets

we were all very neatly pressed

and put together

that mattered in a family

fed and clothed

prepared to make our way

and so today

I want to take out my ironing board

smooth away the wrinkles

sleep in ironed sheets

I never taught my daughters to iron

and it’s been a long time since I’ve done it myself 

back and forth

spray a little starch

spray a little water

hot to the touch

I left home in clothes

that would make me who I am