Cleaning Time
09/30/2018
The Mossy Old Shed
You don't get anything clean without getting something else dirty.
Cecil Baxter
The poem The Mossy, Weathered Shed, from the book Crows & Swallows is about exactly that. A mossy, weathered shed. It’s from them point of view of Mr. Fitzsimmons himself as he procrastinates tackling the growing problem of this shed and reflects on its current state. Standing in the door of the shed he looks out over the red and brown dappled yard.
“I stare for some minutes
That linger for an hour
At the draping leaves
Hung in jangles, dangling
From a crotchety maple
Bursting soft and fresh”
As he looks out he notices the trees, bursting into color as the winter approaches. Perhaps that’s the reason he has decided to try to help clean the shed. To help get it through the winter. Maybe he’s using the shed as a metaphor for himself, built long ago he yearns for the same care he received, to be the person he once was. He also thinks about what’s inside the shed. A broken carburetor, some rusty tools. He details the shed, outlining everything. From the broken shingles to the chipped paint on the walls and the lost leaves, trapped inside.
Near the end of the poem he looks at his greasy hands slick with oil or as he calls is “tame blood” from the carburetor and reflects about how he needs to take care of himself just as he should acre for the shed.