The Man Poem by Aubrey Drummond

My grandmother was all dressed up nice
In her Sunday going to church clothes
'The man is coming, the man is coming'
she said and made me take a bath,

'The man is coming, The man is coming.'
She dressed me, best she could,
made me wear my Sunday shoes

'Oh wow, ' I thought 'this man must be god,
Maybe the savior himself, coming to visit and
Bless.'

‘The man is coming, The man is coming'
a big long car pulled up our dirt lane.

‘The man is coming, The man is coming'
she hushed me at the door.

At the open door stood a man, alright
My eight-year-old mind did comprehend

A man
This man
This white man
Carrying a model G Electrolux Vacuum cleaner

This man
This white man
hawking his wears
was the MAN?