Handkerchief

                                                                                                                        September 24, 1990

                                                                                                                        Daniel J. Travanti

            Ironing a handkerchief so that every edge is flat, seeing the cotton turn from dull soft to shiny slick under the hot plate, pressing the tip of the iron firmly into the corner to unfurl the hem and warm it down, as if forcing it into submission, looking at the once wrinkled scrap now a large neat vast pure expanse ready for action to be crumpled in service to wipe your nose or rub away wetness or grime or food from your hand a humble but bold cloth tool. This common enterprise excites me. Yet, on second thought, it is a thrill not experienced by many. To housewives it is a chore. To we it is recreation.