I am aquainted with the dusty blue
cleaning lady
in her vintage molusk nightgown.

Her flashy trappings of
gold and silver myth
are hidden in deep rapture.

I've witnessed her transformations,
every day a new arrangement
of liquid stardust.

Fathoms of steadfast dignity
are taken for granted in folly,
as she relentlessly scrubs and polishes.


c. fasano