February 23rd, 2026Local lines
Laundry blues
Oh, sodden tissue in the wash
What fool has cast you in?
To shred into a million pieces
When you should have gone in the bin.
Now infinite sticky pieces of you
Adhere to all my clothes
And all because I had a cold
And used you to blow my nose
I’ve shaken, I’ve brushed, I’ve done my best
To remove your clinging debris
And I’ve made a vow, next time I sneeze
I’ll reach for my hankie.
Now my pockets I’ll always check
Before filling the washing machine
So I don’t find a white speckled mess
Instead of clothes, damp and clean.
– Wendy Purcell
Wendy Purcell lives in Kyneton, where it’s always too bloody hot or too bloody cold. When not complaining about the weather she likes to write, garden, sew impractical clothes and ride her bicycle downhill. That is not her washing line below.
Local Lines features poetry by locals about local and any other matters.
Please submit poems to Bill Wootton at cottlesbreedge@gmail.com
