A Question Corcerning Daphne

"Yes. She lived opposite.
Number thirty two.
Didn’t really know her.
We minded our own business.

But, I recall this odd thing though.

She would wait at the window,
down our street,
every November.

We all used to watch her.
She’d get angry at the leaves,
the plastic bags,
hooked on trees.

She would walk out,
come Christmas Eve’s,
with her broom.
It looked like she was
sweeping the world.

My school friend,
Jack,
was scared of her.
I wasn’t.

No, I thought her name was Daphne.

Hour by the hour,
she’d work.
Front garden to back,
kerb to drain.
Again then again.

When it finally snowed,
as it did in those days.
She would lock herself in,
gaze out in wonder,
then fury when it thawed.

Yes, that is all I knew of her.
She left here many years ago.
No, no constable.
I didn’t know she had a son.”