Drip-Dry Waiting for a Change of Weather
I met the woman from next door, the one who’s
unruffled by weather, hangs clothes on the line
in the rain, shirts for the freezing. Her laundry’s
perfectly well-bred, queued and precisely pegged.
Victorious trophies on display, and her pert little
smalls are the best-groomed in town. Those clothes
on the drip. Waiting to dry. Waiting for weather
to change. But regrettably, I haven’t much more
to say about that woman that I met next door.
Found and inspired by text from Bleak House
by Charles Dickens. Recollections of January 1991,