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Max, you have made a lovely piece here, and the word "Singer" is employed to fine effect. The restraint shown in the poem creates a very beautiful and tender feeling, certainly for this reader. Thank you, Sheila On Tue, Nov 3, 2009 at 4:59 PM, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Old Singer Sewing Machine > > > This snap of an old black one is handsome, > but Mother’s was prettier, with flowers – > > my hands touched her feet working the treadle > driving the big lower wheel turning > > with its loop, a thin strip of leather, > sending its turning up to the small wheel. > > Singer, I’d say to myself, while the musical > hum of it speeded up then slowed. > > The shiny flat rectangle the needle entered, > that slid open and shut – under it > > the tiny shiny reel of cotton she refilled – > her finicky threading of the needle – > > my fear of its downward stroke so sharp. > Afternoons, mother’s feet working the treadle. > > A shadow mother at a shadow Singer > sewed shadows by the real one in the sun. > > Her shadow treadle seesawed against the treadle. > Her real slippers, soft to touch, glowed gold. > > > Max Richards > > > > ------------------------------------------------------------ > This email was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au >