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There they were on the clotheslines,
jeans and flannel shirts and aprons
and cotton dresses and bedspreads
and dish towels and old rags and socks
and onesies and diapers.

Oh yeah, and the raggedy blanket
the boys nearly destroyed,
making a fort.

The banners of our lives, our days,
our existence in this neighborhood,
all these years past,
and to tell the truth,
likely as not,
all the years to come.

No great photographer
would waste his time
on this everyday, life-worn set of banners,
but he'd be missing the
explosion of spirit that it tells of.

What a loss.

May2024