The Janitor…

Drawing out the blinds,
in five short minutes,
he wipes the table,
waves his broom,
and scrubs over the echoes
of many muted footfalls.
And smiling a thank you
I do not merit
he invites himself
into my neighbours cubicle,
all over again.

The morning
drifts into noon
while I watch him go about
in quiet efficiency,
sometimes stooping,
to pick a careless piece of paper,
sometimes sidling,
to avoid his own ignored presence,
and sometimes stopping,
to idle in his innocuous thoughts,
even though
it is not for me to deem them so.
And that makes me wonder
when he draws in the blinds
what colours does he see?


Posted on February 9, 2005, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 9 Comments.

  1. Wonderful! I can almost visualize the scene…

  2. Did you watch him the whole day? πŸ˜›

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