I love this poem. It is so true for those of us of a certain age who remember washing lines!
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 by
to spend a night or two.
For then you’d see the “fancy sheets”,
And towels upon the line;
You’d see the “company table cloths”,
With intricate designs.
The line announced a baby’s birth,
From folks who lived inside,
As brand new infant clothes were hung,
So carefully with pride!
The ages of the children could,
So readily be known
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 also said, “On vacation now”,
When lines hung limp and bare.
It told, “We’re back!” when full lines sagged,
With not an inch to spare!
New folks in town were scorned upon,
If wash was dingy and gray,
As neighbours carefully raised their brows,
And looked the other way.
But clotheslines now are of the past,
for dryers make work much less.
Now what goes on inside a home,
is anybody’s guess!
I really miss that way of life,
it was a friendly sign
when neighbours knew each other best…
by what hung on the line.