they traipse down hills to the river loaded;
loaded
with dirty clothes, balanced on heads, in tubs,
tubs
to hold the babies while working
working
to get the huge loads clean—slamm-ing,
massag-ing
on smooth washing stones—toning muscles
muscling
out stubborn dirt ’till limp;
limp
enough for two to wring out—
out
go frustrations accumulated all week
weak
the qualms become after singing to the wind
the wind,
floats qualms down the river;
with light steps, they return up hills loaded
Copyright ©️ selmamartin 2025
“Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.” ~ Edith Wharton
Attempting two prompts:
(and at completion, I come to think this is a hit-or-miss attempt for the poetics prompt. Oh well, I will not digress this time). This is the poem that visited me today.
- Host Dora’s dVerse Poetics prompt-Reimagining the Familiar-open until 3pm EST on Th., Feb. 6th.
- PoW David’s W3 #145 Echo Verse prompt – open until 10am GMT+2 on Mon.,Feb. 10th.
I hope you enjoyed this poem, reminiscing about an ordinary occurrence I witnessed
growing up, our mothers washed clothes by hand. In my case, Mom washed under a
roofed hutch in a long wooden tub (waist high) paired with a handsome washboard
with a corrugated surface for scrubbing the clothes…until, with my first paycheck, I procured a small washing machine for us. Never did I dream of a dryer as we got
plenty of sun to dry and disinfect everything.
Incidentally, that lovely tub also doubled as a small pool for my younger siblings.
And the washboard was a wonderful-sounding instrument.
Also, I must mention, a transistor radio, placed in a dry corner played as Mom washed.
And she sang (sang to the same wind that floated down the river). Music is such a stress
reliever.
Thanks so much for reading.
Here are some photo relics from Google from that nostalgic time. Mom didn’t have a
wringer–she called on one of us to hold the wash tightly as she wrung.
- The Fiend of Our Times - February 7, 2025
- synchronize & crystallize me, she did - February 6, 2025
- Loaded - February 5, 2025
So poignant. Thank you tow sharing
Aww, sweet Yassy. Thanks so much. Glad you enjoyed it
This is really good, Selma.
Oh, thanks so much Robbie. Bless you.
Love this poem Selma .
It brings back childhood memories.
Thank you.
Childhood memories. Hope they were as pleasant my sweet friend. Bless you.
They were Selma .
Many blessings to you my friend .
A very moving poem Selma.
Thanks dearly, Sadje. xoxo
You’re most welcome
A wonderful poem and I enjoyed reading about you and your Mum’s experience.
happy to know you enjoyed that extra share, dear Heather. I was comfortable to share that much. Blessings.
Music, yes always to the music!
Right? There was always music. A necessity. Thanks dearly Kathryn. Xo
Oh, those were the days Selma..❤️🙏 so beautifully written
I’m sure you know my sweet. Yes, those were the days. Thanks for reading.
I remember Mum having a boiler for nappies, towels and sheets. You put the washing in with soap flakes and boiled them! Rinsing wa done under the outside tap. Then everything was put through a Wringer, where we kids turned a handle and the washing was squeezed between two rollers. This was suburban London in the 1960s.
Thanks so much for sharing your experience with me. Sorry I don’t know who you are. I have a hunch it’s you KR. But whoever you are thanks. Xo
This is beautifully rhythmic and vivid, Selma! Wowzers. I love how the repetition adds depth and movement to the scene, almost like a dance between action and reflection.
Much love,
David
David, I’m thrilled you liked it. Thanks for the intro to the Echo Verse.
Absolutely wonderful, Selma. Beautifully expressed. Love it.💕
Grace Ciela, you’ve been missed. Hope all is well. Stay sweet. Thanks for liking Loaded.
That’s really beautiful. I enjoy. Where’s place?
Place in the photos, Raj? It could be anywhere. I got those free photos on the web.
Thanks for liking this post. Bless you.
I like this! The rhythms and the repeats create the place and the work in my mind.
I’m delighted you liked it. Thanks so much for reading. Bless you.
Beautiful poem, I love that she took out the anger, while washing clothes.
Yes. Glad they have a place to vent. I don’t know if it’s that way with everyone but that the part I imagined in the reimagining section of the prompt. I love that you read it. thanks Diana.
Selma, this is a beautiful tribute to all the women who have this task!
I’m happy you found it to your liking dear friend. Yes, it’s an Ode to all who participate in this chore. Bless you.
You make the echo verse form work beautifully to match your subject, Selma, the repetitive motions of beating and wringing echoing the pent up frustrations and qualms of the week being washed out, sung out, “down the river.” Thank you for sharing this priceless memory from your childhood, and how proud she must have been to receive from her daughter a washing machine to ease the weekly labor. The imagery — sensations of sound and sight — resonate vividly, as your labor of love for your beloved mother.
Yes yes. I was surprised too at how well the echo worked with my subject.
I imagine they vented out frustrations in the act. Thanks a million for the beautiful prompt. I’d all but forgotten about this until I read your masterpiece. Thanks for that. Xo
Love the way you made the two prompts work and the imagery of the cumbersome way a simple things like washing could be, but also a sense of joy in the collaboration.
Yes. A simple thing as this made to go a long way. I’m delighted you enjoyed my share Bjorn. Bless you.
Regardless of the status on the prompts I really enjoyed your recalling this memory for me.
You know. It’s amazing how such a memory lay dormant for so long. I needed this particular prompt to awaken it. So happy you enjoyed hearing about it. Bless your heart. Thanks for reading.
You know this poem of stepping stones could go on forever, Sadje!! :>) I love your creative take on this with one line leading into the next! Very well done.
So happy you read and saw far into its potential. The Echo Verse form I used made the imagery of the words come alive. Happy I gave it a try. Thanks D for reading.
You are most welcome!
oops, I did it again. Sorry Selma… I called you Sadje!
Oh don’t you worry a thing about the slip. It’s the spell check that puts words on the page sometimes. No worries. Bless you.
:>) Thank you!
Well done Selma. (K)
Thanks dearly Kerfe.
Very much in the style of Arab or Afghan poetry, and all the more interesting for that…poignant read about childhood too…
Aww. You would know better than I about the Arab and Afghan style, Ain. The Echo Verse form gave it that feel and I’m so happy the poems subject matter and form settled well with you too. Thanks from the bottom of my heart.
BTW, I read your piece about the sunflower skirts and loved it. But there’s no place to leave comment. I’ve always loved your work. Thanks for visiting me too. Bless you. Please be well.
I love your poem, Selma!
Thanks Nolcha xoxo
You brought so much more life to washing with your words. Beautifully written, Selma!
Yvette M Calleiro 🙂
http://yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com
Aww bless your heart for saying that, Yve. Your echo verse was amazing. Love it. Thanks b
Selma your echo is a delight!! My grandmother did most of her laundry by hand but had a wringer (electric) that was feared by all. We were warned to never go near it while it was running as she was deathly afraid a small hand or arm would be pulled in and mangled!!