Behind a shabby back yard, a washerwoman in a scarlet dress hangs heavy white laundry on lines stretched between balconies. The setting is dusty and dull, but the clean wet clothes catch what little light there is, and the woman herself seems full of strength and joy. Watching her, the speaker is strangely moved: the bright white shapes and the woman’s capable brown arms feel as refreshing as rushing water and strong sunlight, even though the day is grey. The poem is really a small prayer of thanks—not to a god, but to life itself. The speaker wants to preserve the moment by painting it, even on the back of a Botticelli Madonna copy, as if this ordinary back-lane scene deserves reverence too. The grim surroundings fall away, leaving only color, vitality, and gratitude.
Prayer in Scarlet and White Paint — Summary
There is a marvellous washing creamy and snowy-white hung high on lines stretched from upper and lower balconies in the back-yard, across the narrow lane behind my rusty apple-tree and dusty lilac hedge; and a great splendid ‘woman-by-the-day’ comely and fat, with a bronzed skin and tumbled blue black hair, and an ugly and joyous scarlet gown, is hanging out the clothes ... wet heavy clean white clothes ... soft liquid splashes of light amidst dull dusty trees and sombre dirty bricks. The laden lines begin to ripple seductively in the cool sour east wind. There is no sun to-day, but the great splashes of high-hung white, the competent brown arms, the comfortable strength in vivid scarlet ... they have given me the warmth and wonder and the refreshment of tumbling woodland waters and blazing sun. I thank you ... Life! I daub it in on a bit of canvas (with a copy of a Botticelli madonna on the other side!) so I may remember ...... the sordid back lane has become quite immaterial ... I thank you ... Life!