Home » Poetry » Poetry: “Elevator Woman”

Poetry: “Elevator Woman”

As we find inspiration in the strangest of places, this one might be the strangest (or not) yet.


Elevator woman


The elevator rattles,

As it begins its slow ascent.

She huddles in the corner,

And does not meet my eye.


Clutched in her fingers,

Is a pot that’s seen some use,

The glass is stained with something brown,

And its handle has some chips.


Coat hangers made of wire,

Bent and battered, but yet whole.

Those she also holds on to,

As we continue to go up.


She does not make a sound,

She does not make a move.

Without saying anything,

We both reach the topmost floor.


As I get off then,

With my own precious load.

She waits for me to exit,

Before she finally makes a move.


This was not her floor at all,

She was simply too afraid,

To push the button for her floor,

I feel sorry for her plight.


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