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What You Are
October 14, 2013
You are
The cold trickle of shampoo
Running down my neck
As I wash my hair
You are
That ice cube in my lemonade
Continuously nudging my lip
Even as I
Twirl my drink around
Searching for a safe spot
You are
The piece of lead I can't
Fit into my pencil
And once I finally do
It keeps falling out
You are
An unexpected nosedive
Into an unheated pool
On a chilly spring morning
You are
That plate I dropped
While doing the dishes
And the fragments
That shattered all over
The ground
© Gary C., Pequannock, NJ
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