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This poem was published in the Riptide anthology. It’s based on true life! I hated polishing all the brass ornaments in our house. There was a huge circular brass tray, dish, candlestick holders, letter rack oh and the brass letter box.
Too much time is spent worrying about dusting and cleaning things.
We should have been having fun instead of worrying about making things sparkle! Who cares? And all too soon our lives are dust…

First day of Spring.

My mother flings windows open,
‘to let the devil out.’ She fastens
her Paisley-patterned apron,
gathers weapons of dirt destruction:
scrubbing brush, Ajax, bucket, mop.

I have to polish, but I like the way
the ‘Brasso’ uncovers lost treasure.
My fingers are licorice sticks,
as mother, streaming with sweat,
inspects a gleaming plate.
‘You’re doing a grand job.’
She rolls up Dandycord mats
and takes them outside to wash.
A glint of sunlight – our prints
already collecting dust.

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