Clothesline 

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 tablecloths

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!