The Clothes line
Cloud-wisps swirl across the sky
as leaves dance on swaying trees –
havoc for a washing day.
Pegs clutch at socks and sheets,
battle with frivolities – lace
fraught as a summer wind
performs a dance macabre,
ordering trousers to cavort
to soundless music.
Pillow-cases bulge with captured air,
pushing coquettishly into nighties.
Towels hold their own – as I –
basket in hand
snip away the peg’s detentions
and carry home a satisfying heap
of summer fragrance..
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