CLEANER, COUNTY BUILDING poem

Cleaner, County Building

He comes each afternoon
mop in hand and a warm
bucket of water, nicely lathered
uses the old ways to keep
our floors spotless, gives them
a tired wash, his face appears
so drained of emotion,
same old job
same old floors
same old hi and lately
only grunting as we walk by
as if the effort to acknowledge
our passing grows less important.

© Richard L. Provencher 1985

Published Spring 1985
Vol. 10 NR 1
PARNASSUS LITERARY JOURNAL
Forest Park, Georgia, USA
ISSN: 0748-8585