Monday, January 2, 2017

cleaning windows

in the later
half of her eighth decade,
she stood
on a ladder,
leaning towards each
window.
one hand circling
with a cloth
while the other sprayed
a mist of blue
upon the glass.
the last day of the year,
no rest,
no reason to.
this made her not so much
happy,
as useful
to someone.

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