My wife changes
linens as lunatics do:
four sets, towels,
sheets, rotated through
twenty-eight days.
White as reliably
follows Black as
Waxing follows
Waning.

Occasionally I've
challenged the Tide
by suggesting, "why
don't you wash Thursday
instead of Friday?
We're vacationing
soon. Best to look
forward, balance it."

I've no idea how
my Tides of Time
intersect hers. It
makes things
interesting.

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22/100