She stumbles in the doorway,
basket balanced on one hip, stacked
to the gills with freshly washed and dried
sheets. A gust of wind blows in leaves across the kitchen
the draining board packed
with last evening’s pots and pans. On the table
remains of breakfast. Eggcups, eggshells, a half-drunk
mug of coffee. An electric bill, unread, she chucks in the bin.
Grabs the dustpan. Sweeps
half a dozen crumbs, ignores the rest. Hoover’s
crap. They’d get a new one but they’re strapped for cash.
Her world is shrinking day on day. More to life than this – surely?
Checks her watch.
Grabs a bottle from the shelf – pops a pill
washed down with a nip or two of gin. She’ll be fine
until tomorrow, then the whole bloody thing begins again.
Takes a stab at the ironing.
If she’s quick, one last drink before
the kids get home from school. Folds up her linen,
smells the essence of the wind – by now a world or two away.
Thinks she’s going half crazy
when she envies the sheets, pristine and perfect,
as gently she lays them in the drawer’s dark embrace.
Comments
MistakenMagic | September 30, 2008 - 18:50
'as gently she lays them in the drawer’s dark embrace.'
- Loved that line :)
Another brilliant piece, so very sad, but very touching!
Silver Spun Sand | September 30, 2008 - 20:25
As always, Magic, I thank you for taking the time to read. I do appreciate it:-)
I wrote the bones of this piece a year or two ago now, but didn't put any meat on them until a day or so ago. Glad the poem meant something to you.
Tina
tamara | September 30, 2008 - 22:28
Fabulous,I totally adore this,the last verse is classic.x
Nathan Bednarek | September 30, 2008 - 23:05
The message is wonderful, the structure is perfect, the lines are crafted with great skill and emotion and of course that good old 'Tina style' ending, which leaves me and my eyes glued to the screen for a few good moments. ;-)
I think Emily Dickinson would be kicking herself if she knew you write poems like THAT every day.
Great work as always dear Tina. Hats off to you. ;-)
Nathan.
Silver Spun Sand | October 1, 2008 - 14:51
Tamara - thank you so much. The last stanza had been bugging me for days and whilst doing my ironing (strangely enough) yesterday afternoon, the words just came to me.
Tina:-)
Silver Spun Sand | October 1, 2008 - 14:54
Nathan - I'm really chuffed. Glad you enjoyed it so much and I was really glad to see that you had posted today as well. Hats off to you in return;-)
Tina
anipani | October 3, 2008 - 11:30
i wanted to write this! the first verse is SO evocative, i can smell the laundry coming inoff the line, and I live this life!Marvellous.
Silver Spun Sand | October 3, 2008 - 14:54
Anipani - I know where you're coming from, as they say!
Many thanks for reading, and yes, I too used to live this life. My 'fledglings' have long-since flown the nest. Sometimes it's a case of you don't know what you've got until you lose it. Not always, though, of course.
Thank you so much for reading and taking the trouble to comment so kindly.
Tina
forest_for_ever | December 1, 2008 - 12:54
As a bloke, I sometimes forget the misery of this kind of life. The romance of having a home and family quickly fade. After I read your beautiful poem, I wanted to 'make it alright' for the person in your poem. I have spent time at home & it drove me mad. You have reminded me that it is one of the hardest jobs in the world, with precious few rewards and acknowledgments. Here is a toast to those unsung heroines.
Thank you