he held his broom
bristles up
to count them
to check them
to see
that they were
straight and strong
he checked
for pliability
for density
he found them
good
and he began
as he always began
in what seemed to him
a corner
a place
that seemed
logical
to begin
there is a rhythm
to sweeping well
a method
to the art
and the sound
sha
sha
is regular
is constant
in its depth of sound
and when a man
can find
that perfect pace
he can sweep
right through the hours
of night
and so he swept
from his beginning place
getting in
behind the dark
and where he swept
you could see
that he had passed that way
for each pull
of the broom
each sweep
in that rhythmic way
brought a little night
with it
left a little
day behind
as he moved along
the sun rolled in
filling every space
he had worked through
he swept
he swept
the whole dark night
away
so
that’s a job well done
so
that will hold light
for awhile
so
until another day
has passed
and when the new night
is deep and dark
when it seems
it will never end
he will take his broom
for a bristle count
a straightening check
the density
sha
and
sha
sha
sha
and
sha
he will sweep
the daylight back
again
~
-
Author:
Frank Prem (
Offline) - Published: October 6th, 2017 02:00
- Category: Fantasy
- Views: 51
Offline)
Comments4
This swept me away.
Sorry if it's a bit long. I lost control of it.
A fine write again Frank.
Thanks O. Just an idea that needed expressing.
A fine metaphor on life well lived, Frank! I appreciate this one immensely.
Thanks Louis. Glad you enjoyed.
Such drama in your writing. This is a scene where the plain man, the grey man nobody sees, becomes a work of art in his depth of purpose giving dignity to his mundanity. Or is he yesterdays prince learning the value of a poor mans labour.
Yes, an elevation of the menial into a context of significance, I guess. Glad you enjoyed the piece.
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