by Thomas Davis
a children’s poem written when Sonja and Mary were young
After the stars were all hung out,
Some wet and some half dry,
Rain dripped down from heaven’s black
And cleaned the blue into the sky.
Then the laundry woman left
And let the stars grow dry and cold,
Shining, flapping in the sky,
Becoming stars instead of clothes.
fourwindowspress 
WOW, Thomas–I LOVE This One!!!! Thanks!
Made me smile, Thomas – I too love this! Your children were lucky to have such a great story-telling poet as a father. This is charming!
I like that it is pretty!
Laundress of the stars…
Magical.
Enchanting … and, for me, at least, profound!