We washed our clothes and put them out to dry The different pieces that a family wears; Bright cup towels and gay handkerchiefs close by: Some clothes were new but other things had tears. And while they limply hang upon the line They do not fear the torrid ironing hour. Stretched in the stimulating spring sunshine They flap defiance at a coming shower. The neighbors going past might so look in And count the pieces of our wardrobe now, And if they do, with passing humor thin, The wet wash dankly gives a mocking bow. The dirty linen that comes clean at home Owes no apology to folks who roam. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 50 by GEORGE SANTAYANA A SERMON AT CLEVEDON; GOOD FRIDAY by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN HIGH FLIGHT by JOHN GILLESPIE MAGEE JR. ASPECTA MEDUSA by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI ARMISTICE DAY by ZELMA DUNNING BOWEN SONG BY JULIUS BRENZAIDA by EMILY JANE BRONTE ALBANIA by GEORGE GORDON BYRON SIDNEY'S ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: CANTO QUINTO. CONTENT by THOMAS CAMPION |