The Clothesline

It’s sweet nostalgia
come to visit me today
bringing me to Brooklyn streets
and brownstones with their backyard lines
childhood thoughts of neighbors
hanging wash
tattle tales and peekaboos
hung dripping on the line.
Minny’s see-through underwear
and Bobby’s holey socks
Alice wears a bra now . . .
can you believe it?

Soon the winds will grow too cold
for hanging clothes
but still . . .
I might just do it one day, anyhow
just to see
the frozen stiffs come off the line
remembering
the laughter in our kitchen then
when my Mom pulled them one by one
hard and cold
through the window . . .
clothesbodies
waiting to lie down
on toasty radiators
and dream away defrosting.

And I, waiting too
to sniff the crisp winter’s air
that floated through that place
filling little heads with happy memories
times too easily forgotten
in a world gone electric.

Joanne Cucinello
(written in 1988)

Little Nest

I had watched those squirrels
last spring
leaping across from tree to tree
twigs and sprigs
of new green leaves tugged along
between their teeth
amazing furry tailed acrobats searching
for the perfect spot
to build their nest secure and safe

high up and away they scampered
back and forth, up and down
tireless, energetic and often comical with
their squirrel chatter

Hurry, hurry, no time to waste
babies coming
make it strong, tie it tight, guard it from
the winter winds
bound to come and test it

Way up high where two trees met and mingled
they found their spot
fragile looking branches tied together or so it seemed
with a twisted creeping vine
turned benevolent and useful for such occasions

I wondered as I looked~ why not closer to the
big strong trunk
or the sturdy bough they pounced on
through the day?
but there it stays defying winter winds
and driven snows
this little nest held high and tangled fast
and smiled on by the winter Moon.

Joanne Cucinello 2010