Sunshine avoids me today,
but the coffee grinder
asks if I can come out to play.
So I do.
But it is no toy
and now my finger is bleeding.
Clearly I am without a clue
my friend says,
sewing my fingertip back on.
I flex the digit repeatedly —
good as new.
I thank her for kindness,
her timing,
and, most of all,
for offering me that
thing no less practical
than a screwdriver.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
kind of a quirky take on rejection here... at first I was thinking it was rejection for a poem being published...
ReplyDeletebut then i wouldn't think the old finger in the blender would be an appropriate response to that!
and the last two lines here... quite perfect... some of the simplest moments of compassion and care are described just as you have done here...
thanks for sharing your work
jp
Thanks, Jon. Your first instinct was mostly right on. It was a rejection for a play...
ReplyDelete