Read the poem below by Judith Wright. Then answer the questions.

Cleaning Day

I carried rubbish down
until the house was clean,
cupboards scoured, shelves ransacked and bate.
High the heap grew;
I struck the match and blew
while the flame sulked against the idle air

Sheltered, coaxed and fed,
slowly it caught and spread
till I could stand and watch its upward stream—
the gesture, the intent
spiralling, violent
dance that began around the core of flame.

Humble and worn-out things
put up their scarlet wings.
To new and pure sprang up the grey and old;
until a self-made wind
eddied within my mind
and it upward in a heat of gold.