The Clothes Line (revisions)

Today I found on another site some revisions to an earlier piece I wrote some time ago (following the death of my mother) … not sure if I ever put them up here … at the risk of losing them to the digital neverland of the internet, I put them here purely for safe keeping … This piece came to me following a comment my mom made when she literally only had a couple of days to live …

“I was at my happiest when I was hanging out the washing”

I know of a little pathway you used to walk.
I’ve walked it many times myself.
I never knew it gave you so much joy.
I never knew it was your solace.

How many times do you suppose you walked on that path?
Up and down come rain or come shine.
How many problems pottered around your mind?
How many did you solve?

When it was young it could see for miles.
The wind could blow,
The sun cast no shadows,
It had purpose.

But now it is old and overtaken by life.
It no longer sees so far.
Its keeper is gone.
No one uses clothes lines anymore.

© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville

I know of a little pathway you used to walk
It’s one I’ve walked myself.
I never knew of the joy it gave you.
I never knew it was your solace.

What a curious thing to speak of
And at such a moment too.
A lifetime of memories to choose
And your mind wanders to the simplicity of a pathway.

How many times, come rain or come shine
Do you suppose you walked that path?
How many problems did you ponder?
How many did you solve?

When the path was young it could see for miles.
The wind could blow,
The sun cast no shadows,
It had purpose.

But now, it is old and overtaken by life.
It no longer sees so far.
Its keeper is gone.
No one uses clothes lines anymore.

© 2007, Tim Prendeville

From the bedroom window I take the garden in.
It seems empty and small.
It is not as I remember it
But I have been gone these many years.

The clothesline hangs empty
The pathway beneath chipped and overgrown.
When this house was my home
We three were young together

I never knew the pathway was your refuge
Your place to run to from the world.
I never knew the clothesline was your solace
Nor that it gave you so much joy.

What a curious place to muse
And at such a moment too.
A lifetime of memories to choose
But in your mind you’re hanging laundry.

How many times, come rain or come shine
Do you suppose you walked that path?
How many problems did you ponder?
How many did you solve?

When the path was young it could see for miles.
The wind could blow,
The sun cast no shadows,
It had purpose.

But now, it is old and overtaken by life.
It no longer sees so far.
Its keeper is gone.
No one uses clothes lines anymore.

© 2007, Tim Prendeville

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One response to this post.

  1. Posted by Susan Hayward on March 17, 2014 at 6:27 pm

    Tim–all of it is well written. Thanks for sharing. Your Mom was a special lady and I am glad I got to know her. Susan

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