my mother at midnight/ her slender waist/ her
wrists/ moving beneath the clothesline/ her naked
arms reaching/ into frozen white linen/
she is seen/
briefly between each billow of sheet/ & wind-lifted
pillow slip/ it is here she abandons me/ for the
soaking white linen/
frozen like starlight/ between
her fingers/ in the haze of pollution/ in the city
sky glowing/ i long for my mother/ her hands in
soapy water/ knuckle bleached white/
she is untouched/
partially hidden/ within midnight breeze/ my mother
turning/ within folds of gently flapping linen/
in ripples like calm ocean/ or old blinds tossed/
by a cool change from the south/ her gaze faintly
chilling/
her toes wedged in sandals/ crushing the
frosty lawn of our backyard/ i wish she would touch
me/ but she is only reaching higher into linen/
into cotton nappies/ white from scrubbing/ her
knuckles pink & raw/ from nights of endless rubbing/
in the industrial glow of the small laundry/
i am
left in darkness/ cast by the shadow of her washing/
in the moon brightness/ of her vision extending
outwards/
i am always on her outskirts/ wishing it
were my skin/ she were holding/ instead of clean
white linen/
& my midnight father/ hot & drunk
behind her/ her skin pale white/ her mind starlit/
stretched into night beyond the yard/
galaxies apart
from his ravings/ waiting for the cold quiet
morning/ of linen bundled into her arms like empty
pillow cases/
my thin white mother stretching into
linen/ her ankles long/ strapped into vinyl sandals/
tissue soft her skin/ her throat exposed & white/
my father drunk/ abusive/ following her from the
bedroom/ to the kitchen/ to the laundry/ with the
vacuum/ the clothesbasket/ the dirty washing/
she pushed it across the carpet/ carried it/
scrubbed it clean/ folded it neatly/ placed it
inside the linen press/
the shadow of his anger/ &
hatred/ upon her naked white shoulder/ she thought
she was a fairy/ & him the ogre/
but his bitterness/
& self-loathing had weakened her/ she wanted to be
alone/ but he followed her/ everywhere/ to the same
clothesline/ for thirteen years/
white linen at
midnight/ my mother wrapped in it/ as inaccessible
as the light/ thrown down from stars/
as cold &
lovely as midnight frost/ smothering the lawn of
our backyard
