THE WHITE SHIRT poem

The White Shirt

is
wrinkled and needs
a little ironing. Working
at the
Business Development Bank
demands dress-up
without wrinkles.

In the afternoon after
clients exhaust
ear drums
having garnered
loans
it’s time for a break

to leave behind office
calculations
computer print-outs
even gossip
around the water cooler.

To slip out for
a hot dog at the park where
mustard and relish dance
in aromatic fashion
watching
ketchup trickle down
your shirt.

© Richard L. Provencher
Website: www.wsprog.com/rp/