Love this. It brings back memories for me too. Not only the mad dash to grab clothes hanging on the line when it starts to rain, but waking up and finding them stiff from frost because I forgot to collect them the night before. What I loved most was the smell of clothes dried in the fresh air. Nothing like it. Thank you for this wonderful poem.
that is magic , Damien, so good how u can use a memory to create a wonderful poem.. truly magical, I can remember the clothes line, I have no memory that I ever recalled of carrying a mountain of clothes, but I know I did.. I remember the clothes line, I have visions of snippets of time, maybe different to yours.. one is doing my hoola hoop in the back yard , pretending I had an audience and I was auditioning for a competion.. I also used the top of the cubby house veranda as my stage, as I made an act for young talent time..... Your poem, and calling it a multicoloured mountains, is so creative and imaginative, its like you havent lost that creativity we all have when we are children, sometimes its lost or thought to be silly.. its a playful part of our soul, that if you know how you can use in poetry.,. I find it very I cant even think of the word, I was going to say inspitaltional , but more the word that means, I wish I could, but dont mind that I dont , its the apprecialtion for another talent. as I read your poems I think wow, love how he links memories,
Oh, I absolutely loved every single word of that. I could picture it all in my mind.
". . . of those mountains we once were." What a gorgeous ending!
Love this. It brings back memories for me too. Not only the mad dash to grab clothes hanging on the line when it starts to rain, but waking up and finding them stiff from frost because I forgot to collect them the night before. What I loved most was the smell of clothes dried in the fresh air. Nothing like it. Thank you for this wonderful poem.
that is magic , Damien, so good how u can use a memory to create a wonderful poem.. truly magical, I can remember the clothes line, I have no memory that I ever recalled of carrying a mountain of clothes, but I know I did.. I remember the clothes line, I have visions of snippets of time, maybe different to yours.. one is doing my hoola hoop in the back yard , pretending I had an audience and I was auditioning for a competion.. I also used the top of the cubby house veranda as my stage, as I made an act for young talent time..... Your poem, and calling it a multicoloured mountains, is so creative and imaginative, its like you havent lost that creativity we all have when we are children, sometimes its lost or thought to be silly.. its a playful part of our soul, that if you know how you can use in poetry.,. I find it very I cant even think of the word, I was going to say inspitaltional , but more the word that means, I wish I could, but dont mind that I dont , its the apprecialtion for another talent. as I read your poems I think wow, love how he links memories,