#Poem stairtread cottonreel disaster

Mad running girl falls
clunky munky bash scrape
wailing impaling picture frame
ouch crash smash glass fracture
just a small cut
mum in green silk
brings milk and biscuits
spin back the days
watch a story like we’re not here
small blood stains on banister
small feet lose footing
the radio talks
like nothing had happened
crumbs of biscuit tinkle on plate
no tears now, no radio
silence
no one knows the story
unfed, untended
body frozen, stuck rigid
nothing moves
old radio, old music
a glimpse of a factory
a field of machines clatter and rattle
threads and needles
long silk threads
wound and neat
neatly wound green

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6 thoughts on “#Poem stairtread cottonreel disaster

  1. Pingback: #Poem stairtread cottonreel disaster | Ash2

  2. Ashley, I wrote a reply then somehow got away from here, couldn’t find my way back–until now. What I had written was gone. Let me tell you this: what I wrote was insightful genius! 🙂 No, basically what I said, if I fully understand the story thread (no pun intended), this poem is chillingly written. Everything is tied up or “wound up” so neatly, when, in fact, a child is dead. My question for clarity: Does the child impale herself on the broken glass while she is running–or is she running from the “mother in green silk” who pushes (?) her down the stairs??? or somehow causes the impaling??? Or is this a story of chronic abuse of a child who goes “unfed, untended” but no one ever knows what really happened because the story is neatly and tightly “wound up,” just as the thread of green is neatly “wound.” Did you use “mother in green silk” as an indication of some wealth or is this simply an allusion to the “green silk” later in the field? Do you mean that the mother took the injury “too lightly,” to say the least. I read the “crumbs” as the “crumbs” of caring the child actually received. Am I so far off that I need to get off these pain meds–just had dental surgery–before I comment on another poem. How often I get to use pain meds for tooth surgery–very rare–so I’m taking advantage of it now. 🙂

    • Thanks Bonnie – hope you enjoyed the meds 🙂 – yes, the girl trips on the cottonreal, falls down the stairs, breaks the glass in a picture frame and has some small cuts – her mother brings her milk and biscuits
      The ‘unfed’, ‘untended’ etc (to me anyway) is to do with the invented characters who now no longer have any story, you could freeze-frame at that point, and then maybe pan out to see the nearby factory where the silk thread was spun and wound onto the cottonreel, the mother worked there

      • I read so much more into the poem than you intended. Made up my own story. But, that’s the sign of a really good poem, I think–when it’s as “tightly wound” or written as this, but will be open to many questions or interpretations. And, as your poem indicates in a way, it’s up to the reader to “pan out” and see what they will. No more dental meds–oh, darn! 🙂 Excellent poem.

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