We carry the past in us. It informs our moving forward.
How can it be otherwise?
A line of garments moving out over the yard on a pulley
line.
A backyard with two Modesto Ash trees and a sidewalk leading
to a garage.
How is it I can’t see the future I will become?
The smell of wet clothes in a woven wicker basket on a
flawless summer day.
A Maytag wringer washer on a back porch by the door to the
stoop.
Mother’s hands,
fishing for garments, one by one.
Load after load. The hot water, the clothes soaking wet.
Clothes pins, a small hand making them known.
Pressing each one
open with 8 year old fingers,
I add Pajamas, underwear, T-shirts, skirts, blouses, Levis,
and towels.
Swaying along into the yard the line squeaks and sags,
Holding a family.
Sue
March 5, 2012
Oh my gosh, Sue. That brought tears to my eyes as it took me back to the day. A very moving picture with such accurate details. That's how it was.
ReplyDeleteThis trip is unleashing even more creative power in you. This is so gorgeous I have tears in my eyes. We never know, with our small hands, with our 8 year old faces fragrant of Tide and sunshine, what's coming. That's what is so terrifying when we look at our grandchildren. What's coming? Big sobbing metta. Holding a family.
ReplyDeleteSo moving--I immediately saw Mom's hands, working, working...
ReplyDelete