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joetheplumberpoet.com - 11/12 'The Masters'
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11/12 'The Masters'
57
11/12 'The Masters'

                                                  Washing Up

Among the pipes is one drop of water

Slowly making its way with the rest

I hear its voice clear and strong

In the silence of the pipes:

Don’t let me be the one, it says,

To come up last at the mouth of the faucet

When you finish shaving in the morning.

Don’t let me be the one to be caught last

When you finish washing at night.

I am so tired and I can’t stick any longer

Don’t let me be the one to go it alone

The porcelain is so hard

And such a long drop away.

   

        Allan Appel    Born 1946 Chicago, Illinois    

            © Allan Appel from From 'New Listings' 1974 Inwood Press, New York.
 This poem is a terrific example of the latitude poetry allows. You don't have to be a plumber
to put yourself right there in that faucet, and you know there is more to these words than meets the faucet. Thanks Allan!