Spring Cleaning

[busker]

When I was nineteen I cleaned her house
Top to bottom.
Washed away her boredom
With my greying sponge .... I like the juxtaposition of a presumably greying, bored middle aged employer and the grey sponge
And ran my fingers through
Her scarves and clothes.
I liked one particular belt
With a butterfly clasp.
It felt cold and heavy. ..... the 'cold and heavy' has a nice visceral feel to it

I loved her husband something
thick and desperate.
He looked like I thought men should look.
With my mop I followed
His dirty footprints on the
Linoleum. Sometimes I thought ....  this to me is the best part of the poem. You can see it.
About stealing his cigars.

I cleared away lipstick stained coffee cups
And dregs of wine,
Removed cobwebs from her corners. ..... 'dregs of wine' is overdone. And with cobwebs come corners. A trite predictable
And cradled a picture of her mother
On the mantlepiece, .... this is another arresting image, with the narrator living a comfortable, privileged life vicariously
Before wiping the dust away.

Walking home I lost
the money she gave me.
I spent the afternoon retracing my steps,
Honeysuckle in my nose and
wind burning my eyes. .... after all the sensations of the touch of tangible things (buckles, scarves, pictures on shelves, sponge in hand), comes the touch of the less tangible. It is connected to the preceding parts of the poem, but is not repetitive. I felt my eyes burning when I read it
I never did find that twenty. .. I'm not too sure if this adds anything to the poem. What's the significance of losing the money? Would it have been any different had the poem ended with 'and the sky was purple'? Also, the twenty / nineteen connection is confusing. You look for a connection which is not there. A weak ending to an otherwise great poem

I like this. It's as good as anything I've read on this site.