poetry (Remove filter)
The Washing Line
Down dark cobbled back streets, clothes lines stretched
across cohorts of back yards, on Washing Day.
Regiments of white bed sheets hoisted high
flapping like flags, in threatening skies
supported by proud,
immoveable clothes props.
Garments not daring to fly loose,
Straddled by dolly pegs
forced down hard.
Above boiling bleach buckets
Malevolent steam swirled, silently seethi...
Tuesday 12th June 2018 10:23 am
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