Im participating in a poetry marathon. This one is only 12 hours, rather than 24. One poem per hour, 10:00 a.m. - 10:00 p.m. I thought Id share some of them with yall. :-) The Janitor and Five Minutes He pushed his cart silently Every day, without fail Never absent, Never late He worked slowly and deliberately Completely focused on his work Never stopping to chat or share pleasantries With students or librarians He was a fixture there and had been for years They say he was always the same Hadnt changed over decades Except that maybe he moved slower than he used to His face was badly misshapen both my an accident of birth And the unbearable pain he wore on his face As he went about his work Dragging his left leg behind him Its nearly useless foot pointed in an unnatural direction He rarely looked up or smiled, but when he did, It seemed that smiling caused him more pain than anything else So no one greeted him or talked to him Lest they feel responsible for hurting him even more Some just stayed away because they were afraid Except Annie Annie the reference librarian talked to everyone Even in her hushed small library voice Her joy burst through the room loudly Every day the janitor rolled his cart up the reference desk If she was busy, he waited Theyd talk for five minutes Five minutes exactly No more, no less And everyone knew that interrupting was out of the question Because during those five minutes The janitor changed He was still recognizable by his cart and his uniform But almost nothing else He stood taller He smiled broadly His voice sounded light and joyful No trace of pain Even his face looked normal, almost handsome For five minutes a day Annie treated him with dignity And he became more than he was for the other 23 hours and fifty-five minutes of each day One day the janitor didnt come to the library Annie started making phone calls Although there were few calls to be made There was no family listed on his emergency card Only his landlord and a lady named Ethel in HR Ethel knew nothing, not even who the janitor was But the landlord told Annie that the janitor Had shot himself in the head that morning. Annie quickly reached for a wastebasket and vomited in it Still holding the phone to her ear The landlord kept speaking I guess the pain was finally too much..... He left a note for someone named Annie.... Sure, I can read it to you.... It says.....Thank you...and its just signed...Joe Annie nodded as if the landlord could hear her Affirming what he said Acknowledging what he said All she could say was thank you before hanging up A group had gathered there at the reference desk Librarians, assistants, students All watching Annie Waiting Without looking up she said Joe killed himself this morning From the back of the group one of the students could be heard Whispering, Whos Joe? Annie threw up again. Hes the janitor, stupid Gasps, moans, sounds of recognition I wondered how many never knew his name. I didnt know his name until that moment. Annie turned and looked at us all sternly, Eyes full of pain, blame, contempt, sadness She didnt say a word but it felt like she was screaming that We killed Joe. Those of us who watched everyday thought that Annie Had magical powers Her voice was an elixir Her face had healing properties Whatever it was, it was all about Annie She changed the monster into a prince As Annie stared at us through her tears that day I understood It wasnt about Annie It was those five minutes every day Five minutes Five minutes that no one could spare Except Annie
Posted on: Sat, 13 Sep 2014 18:22:04 +0000
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