The Bucket

The Bucket

 

There is no kicking it: it takes some craftsmanship

to make it watertight – to tongue-and-groove

those strips of yew, screw them all together

with copper bands, and the iron handle is worth

more than some men’s lives – so we only bury it

with those who could afford it. Most people

make do with an unglazed pot, a hollowed scoop

of oak, a cupped pair of hands – or drink straight

from the stream; they are resourceful enough

to find water in the next world by themselves.

 

Dig it in deep with Aethelwold: he’ll need it.

He never lifted cup to lip without assistance,

still less fetched it and lugged it a mile, slopping

at the brim. Who knows? It may be a different

matter, on the other side, now his heart has given

out.

 

Poem by Giles Watson, 2012. Buckets are rare in the archaeological record, suggesting that they were luxury items, and they are only ever found in well-equipped graves. It seems likely that they were status symbols. Only the metal parts survive in this specimen from the Vale and Downland Museum in Wantage, along with enough traces of the mineralised wood for us to be confident that the bucket was made of wood from a yew tree.

 

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Uploaded on November 5, 2012
Taken on October 20, 2012