THE GARBAGE MAN

Near the window Mary sits
And watches as he nears.
The man she's always waited for
Lo all these many years.

As he stops his truck again
And climbs down from his seat;
Once again, this man she loves,
She surely has to greet.

So she grabs her bag again,
The one she keeps inside.
Hurries out to meet her man
Just like a brand new bride.

I keep my window open
To hear what may be said.
What makes this bride endeavor
To leave her marriage bed?

She asks how he is 'doing? '
He says, he's 'doing fine.'
She tells him she is 'sorry.'
It's much the same ole line.

He says, 'it's good' to see her.
She says she looks 'a fright.'
He says she's 'always lovely
In any morning light.'

I look and see her smiling
Just like she used to do.
I wonder how much longer
A love can stay brand new?

He says he'll see her 'next time.'
She says she'll see him 'then.'
And touches him so gently
As he climbs up and in.

He has no time to linger
It's like this every time.
No meeting of two lovers
Was ever so sublime.

Then I saw it once again,
The look I'd seen before.
The one I wish she gave me
When I walked out the door.

I climb between the covers
And wait for her return.
Pretending is a habit
I've long since had to learn.

Then soon enough she enters,
So quiet and discreet.
And then I feel a tugging,
Her pull upon the sheet.

The bed so gently moving,
Asleep I'd take no note.
She's always been this careful
And does it now by rote.

It's then, when she is settled,
When lying by my side;
She always finds forgiveness
From me down deep inside.

She always moves right over,
Her body close to mine.
And then I hear her sighing,
A sound that's so divine.

Her arms then curl around me,
Her breath upon my neck,
Her hand upon my shoulder,
Her kiss, a gentle peck.

I wonder how much longer?
I guess no one can say.
Perhaps, through my endeavor
There'll be no final day.

If that's so, until the end
I'll do the best I can.
Thankful to be as I am;
Her true love's, garbage man.


Greenwolfe 1962