Ironing
IRONING
Years of ironing starched shirt collars
for my father and the aprons
we wore for cookery class in school,
gave a polished surface to the clothes iron.
The end opened like the lid of a box
and out came the large stone which
we buried in the centre of the open fire,
until it turned pink-red, like a slab of jelly.
With the tongs we lifted the stone
from the fire, transferred it to the iron
and began ironing the clothes.
As we moved it over and back
on the garments, the creases vanished.
Every fifteen minutes we placed the stone
back in the fire, until clothes for seven of us
were neatly ironed and stacked,
ready for another week
from PERFUME OF THE SOIL, SWAN PRESS l999
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