2013-01-13T23:20:09-08:00January 13th, 2013|Musings on life|

The wooden table beside my desk

You stand there
like an obedient dog
watching me work
as though I am worth
all that devotion
and not just a face
tied up with pursed lips
small hands typing and typing
like ants gathering crumbs
for some future feast

then again
you are more like a mule
stack of objects
balanced on your back

a picture frame
the Christmas cards I can’t decide
if I should keep

I noticed today
that you have chipped legs
even though nothing ever touches
your legs

it strikes me that
you are getting old
so I want you to know
if you splinter and crack
I won’t tell them you broke

I will tell them
how faithful you were

how you died
of old age.

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