Allen Beilschmidt Sr. Poet Free verse

Every Wednesday

Every Tuesday
the guys
in the big
white truck
pull up 
to take
our trash.

they are dirty
in need of a shave
and smell like
rotted fish.

yet those
trash guys
have lives
beyond the scum.
     mothers
     wives
     lovers
     friends


I watch the tiny
segment of their lives
peeking through my 
parlour window

     year in
     year out.
I see them,
come Tuesday. They
have no idea
that I exist

They only know my garbage.

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Caren Krutsinger April 8, 2019 at 12:15 AM It is really true; like I do not recognize Wal-mart workers without their vests even though I should KNOW them. Keen observation.

Andrea Dietrich April 7, 2019 at 2:53 PM oh i love this. Love your style. Fresh and creative. Allen Beilschmidt Sr. April 7, 2019 at 4:00 PM Thank you Andrea.

Silent One April 7, 2019 at 2:34 PM Sad reality.. they are just doing their jobs.. but many people judge them for it.. thoughtful poem.

Sunita U.D Palawon April 7, 2019 at 8:15 AM A good tribute to those who are doing a great job of keeping us clean!!! Great write....sensitise readers of the importance of everyone in the chain of services. Regs Sunita.

Kim Rodrigues April 7, 2019 at 7:22 AM Yes, so true! We so must appreciate all people in life! Nicely done, my friend!

Mystic Rose Rose April 7, 2019 at 5:59 AM Ah, you are inciteful dear Allen. That is a gift that is essential to good writing. Yes I often watch them from my window, sometimes I feel vulnerable thinking my garbage gives me away lol . You intrigue me ?