they carry it along
in their pinch and sway,
the way the breeze flaps
in bloomers and secrets.
we sing along, wistful
while we work, hanging
out between a knot of sparrows
and a curious sky.
when the basket’s full
(of sun-spilled warmth,
of laughter), we count our
ever-afters and pull them down
to earth. this is the birth
of a new day, this is the way
that butterscotch light bleeds
through our fingers, a dance
of tree skeleton shadows on
linen and lace. this is the face
of morning, the grace of new be
-ginnings and still-starched hope.
It’s time for Poetics over at dVerse, and I’m hosting. Come play!
Oh I love the way you present the lovely process of a clothesline, and then back to earth… laundry as a rebirth of the dawn of a new day.
Thanks, B. I have small, early memories of pulling down the wash with my paternal grandmother in Dennison, Ohio. That smell of sunshine sticks.
This is stunning. That smell of sunshine – nothing better than line-dried laundry.
Thanks so much, Sarah. My memories of it are patchy, and very old. But my gran’s wrinkled hands with the old-fashioned kind of clothespins are in there, and I’m grateful.
I so enjoyed your clothes pin songs, De, being someone who only dries washing on a line or a clothes rack. You’ve got a lovely rhythm going in this poem, too, which is like the breeze flapping in bloomers and secrets. I love the idea od ‘hanging out between a knot of sparrows and a curious sky’ and the basket full ‘of sun-spilled warmth’.
Thanks, Kim. I envy that ability, a little. We live in the desert, and the wind would dusty-up that line full of duds in no time.
I can’t imagine living in a desert. but I’d love to find out. It’s green and damp here, and mostly chilly, although the weather is better at the moment.
You managed to convey a sense of joy in hanging out the washing here, and it’s true we should delight in the beauty of the everyday. I love your closing lines:
‘the grace of new be
-ginnings and still-starched hope.’ – I can smell the fresh linen! I also loved your short poem which you included with the prompt 🙂
Thanks, Ingrid. I was shy about sharing my own poem within a prompt, but I do for some reason write about laundry quite a bit. 😉 Thanks for the encouragement.
It’s part of everyday experience that can be teased out into something much bigger…
Such a gorgeous, gorgeous write, De! 😀 I so love the “still-starched hope,” in the end. 💝💝 The emotions in this are palpable!
Thanks so much, Sanaa. 🙂
I think Covid has pretty much taken the starch out of hope. So many directions we could have gone with this challenge. I sort of wanted to do a jabberwockian sort of word salad, but thought better of it.
Ohhhh, DO it! And link up! I would love to see!
This is fabulous De. I can hear the sing song of the verses. My favorites parts are 4 and 5 stanzas. Cheers to mornings of new beginnings !
Thanks, Grace. I needed some sunshine song today.
Airily awesome, De. I haven’t even seen a clothesline in ages. (Even though we’re up here in the country, all of our roads are dirt, so hanging out wet wash only means more washing will need doing.)
And thanks for the great prompt!
Thanks, Ron. My pleasure! Same here in the Southern Nevada desert. Too much dust. But my memories of Ohio clothesline washing with my gran remain…
Great use of metaphor, especailly ‘still-starched hope’. Well done.
You painted the scene beautifully!
Thanks, Carol. 🙂
this is the face of the morning, the grace of new
beginnings and still-starched hope
The expected returns of the responsible housewife to all her sacrifices are most welcomed by all in the household. Thanks for the prompt De!
Oh my word, De. I want your brain. Your eyes. ❤
Awww, thanks, my friend. Thanks for the visit! Are you writing this April?
We at Bloomings are “poeming alongside” of Asides. I’m hoping to write a poem every day. April is the best!
Yay! Will try to visit, when I can!
No worries, and no need to put any pressure on yourself. But you KNOW how welcome you are! ❤
Oh my gosh- I love butterscotch light De! The whole poem unfolds so beautifully.
Thanks so much, Linda.
You’ve created a beautiful metaphor.
Thanks, Ken. 🙂
Oh, I love this! It’s so full of such beautiful images, and lovely and fun language–and such a wonderful message of “still-starched hope” at the end!
Thanks, Merril! 🙂
“bloomers and secrets” “still-starched hope”
This is a hopeful, and lovely poem, De!
Thanks so much!