Wednesday, May 10, 2006


Dawn the kitchenmaid scours the pots
and scrubs the floor, then sluices
everything clean with buckets of sun.
Her raw, chapped hands are the price of light.


Blogger Unknown said...

this is an interesting snippet - the diction is quite nice - I hope you develope this one - it has potential

9:58 AM  
Blogger Hedgie said...

Thanks, cookala; like the others, it goes directly into the "To Be Revised" folder which is getting quite large.

2:07 PM  
Blogger Unknown said...

goodie! I hope to see these over at PFFA so I can study your progress - it fascinates me to see how other poets go through the process of revision.

10:05 AM  

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