Domestic System
From dawn through to dusk into candle light
The woman spun her wheel and wound the thread
To follow where her husband’s shuttle led,
And so their cottage passed from day to night,
But such domestic industry was doomed
Come the spinning mill and weaving shed,
Working lives by the factory clock were led
And the death of home working was assumed.
Looms and spinning machines are long since gone,
Mills are desirable apartments now,
Yarn displaced by fibre optics, that’s how
Domestic industry, these days, is done.
Labour remains what the day is made for
And still more hours are worked than are paid for.
D. A.
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