Roisin Duffy


Granny’s housecoat was getting frayed at the edges,

‘a bit like me’ she joked.

So she went to town on Saturday afternoon

to the drapers shop that’s been there for generations,

the only place now that stocks what she wants.

There they were, on the high shelf,

rows of lovely crisp new housecoats.

Big ones and little ones,

some with wild ostentatious patterns for fancy folk in the cities,

but most with well-behaved neatly ordered flowers.

Granny paid over her money and came home delighted,

her new housecoat bursting to escape its folded plastic

and get to work, its careful folds ready

to smooth out in the heat of the kitchen,

and fall into line with Granny’s strict routine.

Up, wash, housecoat on, ready for the day.

Work can be done in a housecoat, with no mess left

on her good dress, or flour marking her skirt,

kept clean and ready for unexpected visitors

and revealed by a quick flick of an old wrist

whipping off the housecoat with long practiced ease,

and throwing it up on the peg behind the door.

Sure the whole point is you’d never know she had one.

copyright Roisin Duffy

Price: Sold.

Size: 38” x 38”.



Artist & Poet