Thursday, April 1, 2010

One last time

The wind runs through this old rag,
seams worn thin by years of scrubbing
and the rough, coarse wash.
Kissed by sunlight, laundry pins
holding snug to squeaky line,
yet nothing heals the tangled edge
of towelling torn by sorrow.

Rachel Westfall
April 1, 2010


Ronald Rabenold said...

Crisp...nice...Thanks for sharing...Ron

RachelW said...

Ronald, thank you.

christopher said...

I think you are a better poet now than you were last year. You were very good then.

BloggerMouth said...

This made me gasp! It's wonderful how you can depict so much. I don't think anyone gets this just by looking at clothes being dried on a clothesline. You have an amazing sense of perspective and when that's coupled with poetic genius... it's almost like magic :)

Fireblossom said...

Laundry items with broken hearts? Sounds like soemthing I would write!

The Laundress said...

Rachel, beautiful, as always.

RachelW said...

Christopher, I don't know what to say. I do know that the inspiration comes and goes. You've been inspiring me a lot lately. Thank you.

Bloggermouth, thanks! You are so sweet! :)

Fireblossom, yes actually, I think you're right.

Liz, thanks, and it's great to see you!

Anonymous said...

I agree with Bloggermouth, how did you even come up with this? It takes one heap of talent to draw inspiration out of something so minimal, and another heap to elaborate it into something touching like this. Well done.

Ghost Dansing said...

cloths lines do squeak, don't they....

Rick said...

ya know what, Rach?
nor should it.