The Clothesline

Two metal T's with wire line in-between a place to hang washed clothes that you cleaned Wooden clothespin to pinch and hold even unmentionables to the world you showed The sunny sun and warm wind would in no time dry all of them Sheets and shirts smelled like spring fresh and bright was everything Hanging blankets across all lines became tents and shade during kids playtime Beating a rug so dust would fly those simple days now goodbye Colorful neon painted machine dries your clothes after washed and clean Somehow it's not like summers of long ago or using wooden racks inside during days of cold Like the sleeves of a shirt waving in the wind the old clothesline has come to an end