Tuesday Poem: Haiku—“Hanging Out Washing”
hanging out washing —
one coloured peg
in a line of weathered wood
.
© Helen Lowe
Published in a fine line, New Zealand Poetry Society, March 2007
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About the Haiku:
It’s been a wee while since I’ve featured a haiku so I thought I’d put one up for today.
(As above) ‘hanging out washing’ was published as a Kiwi Haiku (Ed. Richard von Sturmer) in the NZ Poetry Society journal a fine line in 2007—although I hadn’t realised what a very Kiwi theme it was until a friend who has travelled widely, and lived and worked in many different countries, remarked that in fact hanging out washing is no longer as universal a practice as NZ-ers might assume (ie washing machine/dryer is it in many places now): let alone the ‘lone wire and pole’ version of the washing line (the standard of my rural childhood) that this haiku celebrates.
In terms of choosing this particular haiku for today, I know that it is coming up for Thanksgiving in the US right now, and to me this poem (since a haiku is a form of poetry) is all about being in the moment with, and by extension giving thanks for, all the small, simple goodnesses in life: like the bravura splash of that one coloured peg (it was red, by the way), as well as for the weathered wood and the cheerful snap of the washing against blue sky—which is in itself a way of giving thanks just for being here. And this year, that on it own has felt like a pretty big deal.
Little poem, big speil, huh? But the haiku, I hope, stands on its own.
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I like that you’ve left it ‘coloured’ rather than explicitly stating that the peg was red. Such a meditative act – hanging out the washing – beautifully captured, Helen.
Thank you, Elizabeth–& yes, I tried variations on ebing specific re the red, but comehow just having ‘coloured’ made for better poetry: it opens everything out more to possibility, I feel, that haiku leap from the small and specific to a larger concept of the world.
Helen
Love it.. and your comment about the singl pole and line kiwi tradiiton reminded me of this.. I wrote it a coule of years ago as a part of a SS :
*****
And the 42 were always there, prompting fading memories of better times, of young children playing in the yard beneath the clothes line, held high by tall forked willow sticks, that held the white sheets aloft like sails in the early morning fog. She could still see her youngest at the end of the yard as she hung out the day’s washing, playing on his trike beneath white sheets hanging limp in that dense morning fog. The neighbours always judged you by your white sheets; well that was how you judged your neighbours, wasn’t it.
****
NOt sure the writing is that flash when I look at it now (dredged up from some old files..LOL) but you get the idea.
Kind regards
Robin
Robin,
I know what you mean about old files, but I think this is great—taking us back to that older tradition which my haiku also alludes to. Gald you enjoyed it enough to post in reply. 🙂
I have photos of washing in Singapore – huge high rise tenement buildings with poles sticking out the sides, that the washing was hung over.
You wouldn’t want it to get windy or you would be chasing down a lot of flights of stairs to retrieve the laundry!
Oh yes, I’ve seen that, too! And the street of laundry businesses in Singapore, I believe, once had the nickname the ‘Dhobi Gort.” But I have also been told of new subdivisions in some parts of the world where it’s a condition of purchasing a section that you never hang out washing! Maybe to counteract all that judging of the neighbours by their sheets mentioned in Robin’s quotation, huh? But i can’t imagine that it does much for global warming or the planet.