Ode to a Custodian

Mr. Janitor, I do not know your name.
You mumble Itterasshai!
Greeting me kindly as you polish the big brass gate.
I try to engage you in idle conversation
But chitchat and weather are unimportant
When it’s trash day and there are fingerprints on the glass.
You sometimes bump lightly against my door
On Tuesdays, as you vacuum the hall.
Like a tree-fall in the forest, I hear you excuse yourself to no one.
Godliness is no match for cleanliness.
Today, I caught you wiping a city property–
The sign outside our building that tells how to put out the garbage.
After work, you change into a suit to go home.
I hardly know you without your blue coveralls.
But you recognize me and say hello as we pass in the street.