hopeless men
front to back
at the free clinic

endless
winding lines
of them

shuffle

eyes cast downward
pondering
fugitive fortunes

she wishes she hadn’t worn
her shiny patent leather
to this tattered
shoelace place

shuffle

of over-sized clothing
endeavor
to conceal the bones
of ghostly skeletons
tiptoeing
on light feet

green-tiled corridors
reek of pine
the lone girl
slumps her shoulders
and stares
at the culprit mop bucket
in the corner

the worn yellow
mop handle
oddly comforting
with its familiarity

she can feel
her hands
swinging it wide
making the scourge
clean again

shuffle

past corner’s turn
her eyes cling
to the last remnants
of odorous mop strings

oh for diversion-
music to hear
a book to read

silence but for an occasional cough
and the loathsome echo
of her patent leather heels
on the tile

keep your eyes low girl-
she reaches for his hand
he does not resist this time

At that moment
she is suddenly glad
she came with him

nobody should ever
have to do this alone