Blanket (A Riddle)

Silent, a blanket is spread
But not meant for warmth
Dwarfing the size of my bed
Yet clean and so soft
Fragile, the blanket is drawn
But just for one day
Though most of my town put it on
They will throw it away
Lovely, the blanket is sewn
But so easily torn
It lays on your shoulders and head
But it cannot be worn
Silent, a blanket is spread
But is not meant for heat
I leave it outside–unless
It comes in on my feet