Monday, April 08, 2013

Wash House and Coal Shed

Wash House and Coal Shed 

Cracked wood windowsills.
Soaked sacks of blue lean
snug-cornered, warmed
against the window glass;
sunlight slinks round
shrugged-shoulder curves;
sunbeams on wood beams
light motes that pass.

Raw-elbowed arms chuck
clothes frozen in the tubs;
mangle chokes torsos,
loins, breasts and necks;
sun strikes the face poles
from thick-socked foot frosts;
cane-wickered basket creaks.

Bare throat-choking dwangs;
black sacks of coal lean,
down-trodden crones, thrown,
dragged and lugged
across cracked wooden boards;
drained dugs, dead-weights,
blind drunk and befuddled.

A poem written a number of years ago, previously published on geocities 

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