Elevator / by Brian Kunde

Elevator
by Brian Kunde

Evening rounds the work day full,
Swinging labor to a lull.
In each heart flares one desire.
Time to pack up and retire.

Everyone get out of here:
Time to head on off — oh, dear!
Where the heck’s the elevator?
We have never known it later.

Come O, car: approach our floor,
Stop, and open up your door.
Send some sign that may betoken
That you’re working, and not broken.

Elevator, kindly waft
Hither to us in your shaft.
We’ve been biding here a while,
Patiently in single file.

Oh, it’s tedious to wait!
Hurry up, it’s getting late!
Where and wither do you roam?
Get up here! Let us go home!

Woe! The elevator doesn’t:
Won’t be here. It isn’t. Wasn’t.
Seems it’s halted for repairs.
Guess we’d better try the stairs.

* * * * *

Elevator

from Bibliotec(hnic)a : Poems, Sep. 24, 2013.
An earlier version appeared in
SUL News Notes, v. 4, no. 4, Jan. 27, 1995.

1st web edition posted 5/15/2014.