Wash Line

Wash Line.


Blustery, blowy,
Washing on the line.
Brightness, February
Morning, wind-whipped
Sheets. Flapping, cracking.
All white purity,
Knickers and t-shirts
Flying horizontal.
Underpants. Socks
In assorted colours,
Bouncing, jouncing
As the gale blows
Fiercely. Clouds
Billow over.
Promise of rain.
Watching the weather
As sun disappears.
Waiting to run
To grab up the clothes.
Gather them in arms,
All damp on my flesh.
Pegs fly asunder
As I hear the thunder
That threatens to
Rain on clothing so clean.
Sun reappears, giving
Strength to my feelings.
Must wait ‘til the storm
Disappears from the sky,
Then washing re-pegged,
Delightfully blowing.
Finishing drying
My soggy wet clothes.

© Evelyn J. Steward. February, 2013

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 05.02.2013

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