Clothes on the Line

She better come home

She’s got clothes on the line

Food in the pantry

Food in the fridge

Dog keeps barking

Kids are crying

I’m sittin’ here trying to drink my beer

Clothes on the line

Whippin’ in the wind

Storm could be comin’

And she don’t even care

She’s probably runnin’ around

With no shoes

Hair down

Dancin’ at that spot in town

Where all the soldiers go

Her old beau came back

From Korea yesterday

Lost an eye

And half his mind

Try dancin’ with someone like that

The sleeve on a shirt on the line

Comes up and waves at me

Through the window

From the yard

I wave back

Because why not?

The kids are in their rooms

Freshly spanked for making noise

Put to bed without the supper

That their mother didn’t make

I should take the clothes off the line

But that ain’t my job

My job is my job

Putting in furnaces

Six days a week

The yellow dress she wore

With the red stain near the bottom

Flies up in the air

And tugs at the line

She never could that red stain out

But she wouldn’t trash the dress

Must mean something to her

That I don’t know about

There’s lots of things

She keeps in her pockets

And buttons up tight

So I can’t get to ‘em

Nights in the field

Notes passed in school

Whispers at our wedding

Stains on yellow dresses

That look like blood

A sock flies off the line

Towards a watermelon sky

I should go out there

And take the rest down

But right after I’d do that

I’d head into town

And make a scene at a bar

Have everybody say how mean I am

What a bad man

And how she shoulda married

That one-eyed bastard

And been a caretaker her whole life

Instead of just having to cook a few dinners

Wash a few dishes

Take a few shirts in from outside

A pin comes off the yellow dress

The wind wants to claim it

As its own

That gets me off my ass

And out the back door

But just as I reach the line

The other pin comes off

And the dress goes running after the sock

I reach for it

And catch the end of it

Where the red stain is

I should be stronger than the wind

But the wind begs to differ

It yanks me up and out

And before I can think about it

I let go and watch her favorite dress

Disappear in air and temperature

Serves her right, I tell myself

But does it?

Feels like it might serve me right instead

I go back inside

Crack open another beer

And listen to the wind pick up

A few more things

Before it leaves for good

The front door sits unlocked

Ready for somebody to come inside

I’ll just be here, I think

My breath going bad

I’ll be waiting

Right here