I like this poem. It reminds me of my great grandmother, who lived in Pittsfield. She was a washer woman. Washing was a way for her to make "pin" money. Deb > >The Clothesline Said So Much > > > > > >A clothesline was a news forecast > >To neighbors passing by. > >There were no secrets you could keep > >When clothes were hung to dry. > > > > > >It also was a friendly link > >For neighbors always knew > >If company had stopped on by > >To spend a night or two. > > > > > >For then you'd see the fancy sheets > >and towels on the line; > >You'd see the company table clothes > >With intricate design. > > > > > >The line announced a baby's birth > >To folks who lived inside > >As brand new infant clothes were hung > >So carefully with pride. > > > > > >The ages of the children could > >So readily be known > >By watching how the sizes changed > >You'd know how much they'd grown. > > > > > >It also told when illness struck, > >As extra sheets were hung; > >Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe, too, > >Haphazardly were strung. > > > > > >It said, "Gone on vacation now" > >When lines hung limp and bare. > >It told, "We're back!" when full lines sagged > >With not an inch to spare. > > > > > >New folks in town were scorned upon > >If wash was dingy gray, > >As neighbors raised their brows, > >and looked disgustedly away. > > > > > >But clotheslines now are of the past > >For dryers make work less. > >Now what goes on inside a home > >Is anybody's guess > > > > > >I really miss that way of life. > >It was a friendly sign > >When neighbors knew each other best > >By what hung on the line > > > > >