Finished

As I leave the house

Jim from next door

is out washing his car –

cloth and bucket,

hose and sponge –

he’s doing a good job.

As I walk past I say,

“You can do mine

when you’ve finished.”

He just grins.

He knows we don’t have a car…

Down the road a way

Sylvia is out cutting her hedge –

shears mainly

and occasionally secateurs

on the tough bits.

She’s got it looking nice.

As I walk past I say,

“You can do mine

when you’ve finished.”

“Afternoon, Tim,”

she calls,

though that’s not my name.

Down by the main road

there’s a man

washing his windows.

I’ve seen him about

but I can’t say I know him.

He sees me coming, though,

and nods a hello.

and that’s all I need.

As I walk past I say,

“You can do mine

when you’ve finished.”

He looks a bit put out

at first

but he recovers with

“No, you’re all right, mate!”

But I expect he spends

the next few minutes

coming up with better answers

in his head.

Then, tonight,

things had got a bit

out of hand,

a bit forward, so to speak

and suddenly

there was nothing left to shout about.

And I’m sat on the edge

just cleaning up

and she thumps me on the back

and says

“Oi!  You can do mine

when you’ve finished!”