Wednesday was Washing Day.

Wednesday was Washing Day.

A Poem by andrew mitchell

Wednesday was Washing Day.
The day  Wednesday,
washing day
where all the inhabitants
of terraced houses
and low back fences
in orderly fashion
hung out their clothes, 
garments, and home apparels
to dry.
T'was only when
the final curtain washed, 
dried was pulled in
from the washing line
did one realise
who was the naturalist
naked.
The tan was a dead give away!

© 2016 andrew mitchell


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Added on July 2, 2016
Last Updated on July 2, 2016

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



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Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..

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