I stare at the folded up laundry on the bed.
They are neatly piled, just waiting to be wrinkled.
They smell the sweetest of smells,
Embracing the scent of you and your strawberry fields.
I remember when we lay in the grass.
It was the longest, hottest day of the year.
Your eyes would twinkle once in a while.
If I knew they would go out so soon, I would have held on longer.
I know you never washed the shirt you wore that day, but still I wonder
If you wanted to hold onto me longer, then, too.
