WASHING LINE

First published in April 2022

Generations of women
have gloried in pegging
shirts and socks, knickers
and tea-towels on a line
in the back garden
watching their flutter, their
swaying dance.

There's something
undefinable, but so very
satisfying about this mundane
job, knowing our mothers
and grandmothers and all
the other women from way-back
loved it too.

That btickle of pleasure
in sun and breeze is a womah-
thing, men go along with it, helping
now and again with water-
heavy duvet-covers and sheets
but to them it's just a chore, in
no way a joy.

To me, washing
blowing, jitterbugging, swinging
on the line brings a shudder of
happiness that binds me to all
those women, long-gone, faces,
voices, even names forgotten
but mirrored

in shared sunshine.