Poem for Advent

(Found here)

He comes at last, the long-expected painter

in working clothes, carrying ladders, paint-

splattered dropsheets. He’ll cover everything

and scan each wall for cracks

                        caused by the building shifting,

plaster and scrape, making rough places plain.

If he’s inclined he’ll hum

                        Lo how a rose ere blooming

while I remove from every room all hindrances:

the vining ivy, ornaments, those matched lamps

that might get in the way of things. Myself.

When everything is ready he’ll begin.

~Sarah Klassen