Four Winds Ambition

 

The dehydrated apple skinned man

Leaned against the door frame

He observed my sweeping technique

Making sure dirt, and crumbs

Found the dustpan

 

I was a kid

He was bent and broken

By a life I could not imagine

Resting his spent body

In the dingy, resident worker quarters

 

“You’ll go far, young man,”

 

I couldn’t understand his rational

I was sweeping a floor

In a dark apartment complex

Full of used up workers

Blown like dust bunnies

Watching old westerns and soaps

On a beast of a console TV

 

The floorboards as worn as they

Faded, split and chipped

Ground down by heels

 

I was just a kid

Gathering debris from every corner

Clueless as to why, and how

They were blown here