We do so many small things automatically … turn lights on,
pull out a chair, open a door. There’s poetry in these actions,
some serious, and some definitely not. Read on …
stretch your fingers to full length
curl and flex their tensile strength
slide each digit round the points
be careful not to crack your joints
let fingertips find their place
nestling in with perfect grace
start to twist against the thread
that holds the water to its head
turn now until it’s rightly firm
(it is a knack one has to learn)
not too fast and not too slow
to get that desired shower flow
let your body slightly lean away
so you’re not chilled by icy spray
or broiled by fierce heat so great
scalded skin will be your fate
when the temperature is right
turn the faucet hard and tight
then let go, head back, soap and sing
for you are now the shower’s king
A Summer Father … poems as deceptively simple and cunning as a sniper’s bullet. This book is a Remembrance Day poppy. Dave Margoshes