-since you were away-

battle on cobwebs begins
you with a duster on the end of a pole
straightening paintings along a diagonal
the Japanese print and dad's pointillist bridge
haven't been dusted since you were away1

downstairs damp sheets from the spin dryer
are shaken out to be folded cold
I think of a smaller me
another house, by the railway
on a washday I’d put my hands in the old twin tub
captivated by sporadic movement
tried to hold part of the plastic turbine but
small arms couldn’t match machine
dye always came out of things
and we’d watch balls of purple
fibre fluff form in the bit at the top
our toys would churn with the washing
a grand adventure for them we thought
the sheets and towels would be wrung
by hand before being moved
to the black side of the machine
no hands in this side it shook as it span
until the water exiting the green pipe
into the sink slowed and stopped2

the twin tub started smoking one damp day
in spring the steamed kitchen air was blue
it will be cheaper to get a new
one they said. somehow they didn't mention that
all the new ones were characterless3

later now in a different part of town
I don't watch your rough hands wring sheets
any more. I always remember thinking
how strong they must be; with five-year-old hands
you only let me squeeze the last droplets
from the corners of the towels
whilst you grasped them in the middle.
those hands have been absent
these past months across the sea
they are too smooth now from writing
in the days of the twin tub you used hand-cream
I loved the green lid and the smell when you
rubbed it in, dabbed a bit on the end of my nose
and we laughed together before deciding
the colour for the doll's house curtains.
I haven't heard you laugh recently
your mouth still forms the sound
but your heart sorrows and your eyes don't smile
it is hard. I don't know how to help4

you can't understand that running never solves
anything at all. back home again, the problems
remain and you ask yourself what you will do now.
no one can tell you the answers because they are
locked away somewhere inside you, a private place.5