I love standing in the sunshine feeling the breeze,
Smelling the freshness of clean clothes hanging on the line.
It brings back memories of laughter and running
My arms waving in the winds
Like the clothes on the line.
Little toes grabbing the ground
Like the clothespins pinching my socks.
Grandmother washed clothes in the yard
Using a tub and washboard.
She wore an apron that slipped over her head
Over her chest.
It tied in the back holding her together
Like the basket holding our clothes.
Her short black hair was held back
With bobby pins yet tendrils fell
Over her face of crinkley brown leaves
And would flutter around her eyes
Like the arms of my long-sleeved shirts
When they flapped in the wind.
Her smile was like the sunshine and she loved me.

THE CLOTHES LINE

Copyright ©2003 Beverlee Pettit
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Doing laundry in the Arctic Circle
Member of the Wyandotte Nation of Oklahoma