Poem by Lesbia Harford

* * *

I dreamt last night
That spring had come.
Across green fields I saw a blur
Of crimson-blossomed plum.
I've never known
So fair a thing.
And yet I wish it were a dream
Of some forgotten spring.
Today the sun
Our workroom blest
And there was hard young wattle pinned
On our forewoman's breast.

1. Closing Time: Public Library
2. He had served eighty masters. They'd have said
3. All through the day at my machine
4. Child Sun
5. I can't feel the sunshine

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