The Poem of the Month for May 2022, selected by 2022 Anthology Editors, Veronica and David Cookson, is Washing Day, Burra 1896 by Helen Hutton. The commended poem for May is The Fly by Charlie Madden.
Washing Day, Burra 1896
Helen Hutton
Like Aurora, she rises
as night’s clouds billow to the east
and the sky is veiled in a violet mantle.
She has stopped counting the dawns
the jagged mornings
since her husband rode
alone to Broken Hill to work
in the candle-dim mines
where days and nights unite.
She wonders, does he think of her?
Mist lifts from the well
floats in the wooden bucket.
She pulls it up, lowers it
treads the path to the washhouse
and back again
until the copper is full.
She strikes a sulphur match
hears the crackling kindling
feels the heat from the flames.
She rubs her hands
searches for his face
in her mind
feels the baby kick.
Bleary-eyed children pull at her pinafore
hug her legs, crowd around the copper
to warm away the morning frost.
Get away now, get away from the fire.
You know what happened to Mira.
She pounds the sheets
with the wooden paddle
and thinks of him deep
in the dust and grime
breaking the rocks
with a crowbar.
She wrings shirts and skirts
with calloused hands
and heaves them through the mangle
loads the wicker basket
strings twine between two Y-shaped trees
and dolly pegs the sheets to catch the breeze.
No room left to hang her dreams.
The Fly
Charlie Madden
There’s a fly on my knee
it landed there a moment ago
No radar, no landing lights
no traffic-control
And now it’s gone
off and away
a free soul
…no one is telling it what to do.
It must have a soul
to be so free
and for that soul to be the catalyst
for all those countless equations
used in those flights
Chemistry, navigation
geometry and meteorology —
to name just a few.
And if I can’t even repair
one of its many joints
or lubricate the odd wing fulcrum,
let alone begin to understand
how it flies like that,
or lands on the ceiling upside down
I can’t do that
What right have I
or what reason —
to swat it?