Mothers Do An Orphan : String

This of dark motionless night
where plastic string, barren
On roof top, hung
my wet cloths today
to dry by the sun beam;
Knows not, whether again
will it gain weight
to lullaby my teary clothings-
In tomorrows spread
And flute me,
by sweet little winds
And enchant me mesmerized
Fluttering day and light:
As mothers do an orphan
Umbilical to string

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