Louise Marie DelSanto

Snow Princess

I give praise to my new sister, this Snow princess,
with strong arms, she walks the corridors with me

She has grown to know this place, this building
of double rooms and hampers filled with dirty linen, her

tools are her hands and mind, yet she is soft as
the pillow she holds, the lambswool she places down

Snow princess, young woman, praise to this woman
and all women that follow her, she moves down the

corridor in stages, knowing, listening, giving, she
does in all in a span of time she must complete

She lifts the filled plastic bags from the pails,
and hurls them unto the next pile, and then

she is not stopping for herself, down the hall
a cry, a laugh, she looks closely for a reason,

the woman resting in the out of room chair,
the man wanting to just have the plastic urinal

Snow princess does it all, yet, she keeps going. I want
to give her praise for what she does, and I look

up at the clock on the wall and she is doing
her last rounds, this Snow princess, her

followers are all snug in their beds for the night.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, November 28, 2005
Poem Edited: Sunday, May 21, 2006

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Edgar Allan Poe

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