On Thursdays an angel comes
to clean the house and wash
the clothes and sheets. My gums
bleed from the toothbrush
that she dips in bleach
when I’m not looking. She puts
my glasses out of reach
and dresses the cuts
I got from falling on
the kitchen floor
after she’d gone
out the back door.
I call her “My Angel” because
I wouldn’t want to make a fuss.
6 comments:
I like cleaning but some days I do wish I had a visiting angel.
I hate it, and I'm glad Aimee does it!
Sounds like my angel.
EEK!
I have no angel, but I think I, too, would make no fuss were I to obtain one. *sighs*
"She must be all right, she's registered..."
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