Handsome Dan Van/The Laundress

dan.handsome@yahoo.com THE LAUNDRESS The familiar hiss, fog steams the kitchen mirror Test the iron, with your fingertips Anoint the cloth with water drips And press it smooth Children hide and rustle In piles of unwashed clothes Broom scattered, they swish past The washboard propped by the bluing glass And you breathe, and you breathe The lights of Berlin seem far away A howl of trains, moon tangled in the ragged wire Dull hands stitch, button to sleeve Starched lapels, perfect sleeves For the guards of Buchenwald Every day they inspect your work Numbers burn on your wrist Is it smoke, no only mist And you breathe, and you breathe You hear the drum, it's not for you The sea's blue mirror, reflects the harbor lights Starboard bow, steerage class New York tilts through the porthole glass Liberty Rented room behind the secondhand shop You wash and fold, simple work A little money, shirt by shirt And you breathe, and you breathe Outside the rain turns into snow



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