Submitted by: Charlene Reams Manning, Class of 1962
Since the weather warmed up, in between spring rains, I have been using my clothesline again since the winter break. I just love it, so I wrote a poem about it last year, when my first season with the clothesline was ending.
The Clothesline
The sun is shining glorious and bright.
The sheets are hanging clean and white.
The breeze is blowing warm and light.
And I am here at the clothesline.
First I think of my Mawmaw in her old straw hat;
Always kept company by the family cat;
The garments, the pins, basket and all that:
Me, a young teen, helping at the clothesline.
Further back in time, Mama, young and sweet,
Her songs and chatter a little child's treat,
Hanging the clothes in a row so neat,
Out on the backyard clothesline.
I recall the sheets, damp and cool,
And playing among them as a rule,
My sister and me acting the fool --
Hiding in the wash on the clothesline.
I have found a link to a distant past,
To a childhood and youth that could not last,
To people I loved and days long passed,
That return in memory at the clothesline.
I'm helping in the effort of "going green,"
Trying to keep the electric bill lean,
My clothes all smell delightfully clean,
All because of the clothesline.
Beyond the laundry dried so fine,
Are the priceless memories, privately mine,
And they flood my thoughts most every time
I'm out with my wash at the clothesline.
Charlene Reams Manning, Class of 1962
Copyright October 2009
Editors’ note: This poem brings back memories of the fresh smell and feel of clothesline dried sheets~! Thanks Charlene for the Poem.