I used to hand her the wooden clothespins. I was too small to reach the line. And yet somehow, I could reach the sky.
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To the Wind
A poem of three taut lines,
defined by his mother’s wash
and her clean white sails
Recently Banned Literature, April 16, 2014
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Categories: Recently Banned Literature
Tags: Childhood, Memory, My Mother, Our Old Farm, Poems, Poetry, The San Joaquin Valley, Wash Day, Wooden Clothespins
