On the roof
the city below
is quiet
Gray
the order of
the day
People still use clotheslines here
cursive swoops of nylon rope
wet haberdashery semaphore
Empty rivers on either side
the low-end of tugboat blasts
is lost here
Each one grabs
an arm
a leg
apiece
Spreads me like a kite
brings me to the edge
begins a count of three
A sail on the river begs a breeze
no longer grasps hold
kites below become smaller
. . . I be gone
It is certainly quieter here
save for the rush of wind
Chagall 2016
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Such a tranquil setting
Tosha, thank you for the good read. —CC
You’re welcome. I remember hanging up clothes with my grandmother. This brought back good memories
I used to do the same. She had one of those old machines with the wringer – clothes would come out totally flattened. We’d pop them open to hang them on the line. 2 types of clothespins – remember?
I do!! Good times. Although, back then I didn’t think so. Now, I would give anything to have those days back.
Yep – same here. —CC