Water tower strip

I have never seen anything like it: a gigantic canvas water tower drape, raised and lowered seemingly on whim.  The workmen are not there every day.  There seems no rhyme or reason to the whole project.  Nor can I see anything that looks like decay, or anything that looks like progress.

It seems

Work is underway

On the water tower,

The one with the big bunch of roses

Painted on the top,

The one next to the train station.

I*m sure if I asked the right person

I would find out just exactly what

The story is.

I never know from day to day

Whether the canvas drape will be pulled

All the way to the top,

Or heaped at the bottom;

It is an almost daily strip-tease.

I never know

Whether workmen will be gathered there

Staring up at the roses,

Talking to one another.

I never know

Whether there are people under the drape

In the dark,

And if there are,

What they do under there.

When the canvas

Reveals all

I see no difference

From the day before.

I*m sure if I asked the right person

I would find out.

Still

It is more interesting

To speculate.