When I See a Clothesline

When I see a clothesline,
I feel the will to live.
Shirts all pinned at shoulders
as if the wearer just slipped out,
pantlegs flapping wild as if
the invisible wearer walks,
underwear and socks all unabashed,
smelling like the breeze.

When I see a clothesline,
I feel the woman’s hands, her pride
of family tasks and givings,
of loved ones donning
freshwashed garments.
When I see a clothesline
I feel the hopefulness
of those who want to live.

After the bombing has stopped,
after the hope is reclaimed.
after the refugees stop walking
After food is found for the children,
Once there is water for drinking,
and for washing the longworn clothes.
When I see a clothesline,
I know there is some peace.

©Susa Silvermarie 2024