I particularly like that middle line because of its pacing. The right pacing in a line of poetry is like a deep glass of the best vintage Bordeaux or Burgundy to me because it has to assault the senses so much that time stops in a most glorious way.
This is a classic haiku, Lorin. It could have been written by Basho! Such vivid imagery. But with an understated "sting in the tail" for those who are prepared to wait for it.
My initial reaction was one of humour, at the apparent lightness. Trousers dancing on the clothesline in the wind, and a slightly wry deprecation of "his" swagger.
But afterwards, I dwelt more on the images that came into my mind – and a sense of sabi melancholy settled on me. I find there is always something deeply poignant about washing on a clothesline. We hang there aspects of our selves – both the outer clothes we present to the world – our swaggering trousers, for instance – and the private inner underclothes we wear, which is also often where we hide certain vulnerable aspects of ourselves. The phrase "still some swagger" actually seems to imply just such a vulnerability – a gradual change is taking place through the aging process. The swagger is in the trousers, no longer in the man. The season is still summer, but I suspect late summer. The autumn of life is immanent.
Very nice: I like the use of "swagger" because it resonates with the wind and the whole poem. Several months ago I wrote this haiku for the 8th International Kukai where the prompt was "white" and thought I would share it due to the use of white & clothes: