This Poem was Submitted By: Floriana F. Hall On Date: 2001-02-02 10:05:54 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Long before the telegraph, The telephone, TV or internet, Lines of communication Spread across this pioneer continent. Clotheslines filled with clean, wet, or dry clothing Flapping in spring breeze, or summer day, News of a new baby, guest or growing, Announced to all in a subtle way. One could travel by slowly on horseback, Or later, from windows of buses, cars, and trains, See the new lines of communication, Diapers, long johns, domestic creations, some stains. And over the fences neighbors conversed, After they hung their washed clothes up to dry; Took them down and folded them neatly, Carried them indoors, baskets piled high. Now, it is rare to see clothes on a line, No more tales of family living, Electric or gas dryers work just fine With indoors heat capably giving. I kind of liked the old days, Hanging out wet clothing in the yard to dry, I kind of liked the old ways, Taking them down with a contented sigh.

Copyright © February 2001 Floriana F. Hall

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