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Poets Corner

The Clothesline

A clothesline was a news forecast to neighbours passing by...
there were no secrets you could keep, when clothes were hung to dry.

It also was a friendly link for neighbours always knew,
if company had stopped on by, to spend a night or two.

For then you'd see the fancy sheets, and towels on the line
and their very best tablecloths with intricate design.

The line announced a baby's birth from folks who lived inside,
as brand new clothes were carefully hung, as witness to their pride.

The children's ages could be known,
and by watching how the sizes changed, you'd know how much they'd grown.

It also told when illness struck, as extra sheets were hung;
then nightclothes, and a bathrobe too, haphazardly were strung.

It signalled "gone on holiday", when hanging limp and bare,
and declared, "we're home!” when full... with not an inch to spare.

New people in town were scorned upon, if their wash was dingy grey,
as neighbours raised their brows... and looked the other way.

But clotheslines now are of the past, for dryers make work less,
now what goes on inside a home, is anybodies guess.

I really miss that way of life; it was a friendly sign,
when neighbours knew each other best, by what was on the line.

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