The Janitor

Hola amiga
I said
I was late for a meeting
Click click click
My heels on the shiny linoleum
City hall dark except for the hallway
Hola amiga
She replied holding open the bathroom door with her foot.
Como estas? I asked.
Tired she said.
Mucho trabajo.
You work everyday? I asked.
Si
She picked up a towel;
Her hands were thicker than mine
Her face older
Everyday? I ask
Here, 6 to 2 she said.
Then I clean houses in the day
Take care of boy in the night
Her trail of tools was long
A mop
A broom
A box of blue, green, yellow bottles
A bucket of rags and sponges
A yellow warning sign
CUIDADO
You work on the weekends too? I asked.
She wheeled a large gray trashcan down the hall away from me
Black plastic bags flapping off the sides like flags
I don't have weekends she said.

-Hope A. Horner, 2014. Use with permission only. Follow on Twitter @HopeNote
Contact author on gmail at hopeh1122

Fruit Picker

Cast me out!

You can
because you don't know me.
You never had to look me right here--
Right here 
in the eyes 
and tell me

You don't want me around.

It would be a little harder then 
wouldn't it?
To toss me back into the heap 
like a bad apple-- 
One brown spot too many.

Look at me!

You see me now

in the sun and sod,
overalls and long sleeves
between the ruts and the road stands.

Someday,
you will see me--
My back
no longer bent over the green rows.
My hands
no longer stained with the blood of your fruit.
My glory
no longer restrained under a bandana

But flying

Like a bandera!
Freedom
whipping across my face!
Joy
stinging my almond eyes!
I will not be tossed back by you,
For I am chosen!
Not by you,
Fruit Picker.

But I am Chosen!

Copyright Hope A. Horner. Off-line use with permission only. Contact author on gmail at hopeh1122. Follow on Twitter @HopeNote