Midnight Washerwomen (a poem)

Published on 27 August 2024 at 12:17

Robed in dark umber,

and three in number,

to the river the washerwomen lumber.

 

At the midnight hour

they scrub the blood, acrid and sour,

from the shrouds of those who relinquish their life's flower.

 

Assembled at the river's edge,

among the prickly sedge,

they dress the dying to meet their judge.

 

Webbed feet keep

them steady in the deep

rushing waters in which the cerecloth they steep.

 

Hunched in the tall grasses,

they beckon anyone who passes

to assist them in their ritual practices.

 

Those who refuse them their token

of help find their arms broken

without a word ever being spoken.

 

Les Lavendières gift the dead their final dress

and leave all others in duress

dreaming of the night they too will be ministered by a midnight launderess.

Image Description: A hazy river is visible between the leaves and dark flower buds of woodland scrub.

Credit: peter bucks / Unsplash via Webador

Laura Browne-Lambert is a queer, neurodivergent, and chronically ill writer whose writing emphasizes the characters, identities, and experiences she missed out on in her youth. She lives in Boston, MA and enjoys gardening, painting, and finding new science fiction or fantasy stories to enjoy. She is also the creator of the Underground Bookshelf. This project provides free short stories and literary resources with the intention of making diverse stories more accessible to everyone. Visit Underground Bookshelf at https://www.underground-bookshelf.com/

Image Description: Laura Browne-Lambert, a disabled, White woman sits in front of a concrete wall on a sandy beach. She is wearing a blue, plaid shirt, black leather jacket, and black dress pants. Her hair is windswept. Her black cane leans against the concrete wall.

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