A Poem, A Day

A Day
Single female janitor
raises three girls
- two autistic -
cries at night.

A row of repossessed
houses across town
are weathered by
the elements.

A paperboy works for
his allowance as
he stuffs the daily
courier into a
yellow box.

Today’s headline
STIMULUS.

The janitor looks
at her glassy floor
- not hers -
just mopped
tracing the tile lines
and orange colour blocks,
absenting herself
for a moment.
Alone and absolved.

The paperboy bikes by
vacant houses,
peddling harder
scared of the ghosts
who come up
short on judgment day
that try to pull
you in.

The sun goes down,
the streetlight turns on,
a day turns to night.