The Thief

Who is this thief that steals from my line,
again and again, time after time.

Leaving dirty laundry scattered around,
finding them laying on the ground.

What a mess they have made of things,
the emotions they stir and sorrow they bring.

I wait and watch my laid out line,
I have patience and plenty of time.

Searching for answers to the crime,
who is littering these things of mine?

Then I saw them land on my line,
taking my clothes pins one at a time.

The black Crow that has caused such a mess,
likes the shinny spring of the clothes pins I guess.