CLEANING CREW
As he pushed the broom across the empty floor,
he noticed the empty paper cups,
turned on their side.
They lay like soldiers dead on a battlefield.
The dead and dying ribbons,
used up napkins,
plastic silverware,
that never lived
here anyway.
The party,
like all parties,
had come to an end,
and he was left to clean up
the detritus of other people’s living.
He wondered
whether he would begin to live again.
In his dreams,
she floated into his consciousness,
an image of loveliness,
borne on a silver chariot,
brimming with promise.
Had he met his muse?
He felt safe in her arms,
Wrapped in surrender,
Seeking the promise of Love,
and kissing away
the hurt of past lives.
Could they find themselves
On a newly clean dance floor,
free from other people’s messes,
free to create their own new life
and free to love again?
It was nice to be able to love again completely.
He lost himself in her embrace.