My Factotum

My factotum brings me tea.
Then he stands on his heels, looking
Out the bay window.
Hands in pockets, a kind of
George Wallace posture.
"What if none of this is real?"
He muses, a little quietly.

My factotum borrows my keys
To go to the grocery store.
He brings home Rolaids
and a case of AB.

"What if none of this is meaningful?"
He asks, as if no time had passed.
He pours himself a cup of tea.

My factotum tries to figure out
His new digital camera.
He wants to capture the image
Of a hummingbird floating
Outside the bay window.

My factotum is deaf.
He wants more than he can have.