Olga Ivanova

OLGA IVANOVA Each day when I get to the office for a coffee fix, A minor underling, an immigrant office-cleaner, Olga Ivanova, greets me. She’s been at work since six And off her floor you could eat your dinner. Her bus takes an hour after a rain-soaked queue, Leaving three small kids - abandoned by spouse - In a cheap rented apartment near the zoo, Where she looks after his sick mum too - that louse. Tidies the reception area of the whole department; Specially keeps office-copy of the daily paper for me; Always says good evening, smiles acknowledgement And hands it to me as I leave at five - oh - three.