Saturday, July 7, 2012

Another resident of the grass strip at the edge of
the field. An old ringer washing machine. Nestled
amid the field mice and the crows who have no
need it seems for laundry. I somehow doubt it was
actually easy.

"It has to be loved the way a laundress loves her linens,
the way she moves her hands caressing the fine muslins
knowing their warp and woof,
like a lover coaxing, or a mother praising.
It has to be loved as if it were embroidered
with flowers and birds and two joined hearts upon it.
It has to be stretched and stroked.
It has to be celebrated.
O this great beloved world and all the creatures in it.
It has to be spread out, the skin of this planet."

from
          Planet Earth
                  P.K. Page



"Oh, let there be nothing on
earth but laundry,
Nothing but rosy hands in the rising
steam
And clear dances done in the sight of
heaven."

from
Love Calls Us To The Things Of This World
                                 Richard Wilbur


4 comments:

Gary said...

Gee, I remember those.Boom & Gary of the Vermilon River, Canada.

sandy said...

We had one like that. I remember seeing my mom strong-arming it out to the porch where she washed in the summer. EASY for who?

Guy said...

Hi Gary

I understand there was quite a bit of concern that little fingers did not get wrung.

Regards
Guy

Guy said...

Hi Sandy

I guess these advances are always considered an improvement on what went before but this looked like it made washing a pretty fraught experience.

All the best.
Guy