Fuse Box
“Is it
almost
beyond
the moment?”
You ask.
Simple as
your voice
and my eyes
or vice-versa.
I flame to get
through to you.
The words are
electricity to
propel motion.
But there is worry
about the condition
of circuit breakers
It started simple
but now the charge
is more immediate.
Erratic Heat
Several kisses
ago,
I knew
that
this fire
would
never
really
get beyond
kindling;
still
I
hold
out
for
the slightest
breeze.
Accepting Derivations
I offer help.
She smiles and shakes her head.
White vinegar and water
in the broken handle yellow bucket
with some ancient dried-up sponge.
The perspiration causes
tiny strands of silver hair
to stick to her face.
She wipes the faucet and then knobs
then turns her attention to the soap ring.
The concept of a shower
has not reached this farmstead.
Wiping a wisp of hair away,
she turns to the outside of the tub
starting with the farthest claw feet.
She has devised a way to contort
her old limbs to reach impossible places.
I watch in awe and embarrassment.
This is how it is done. Period.
Bio
R. Gerry Fabian is a published poet from Doylestown, PA.
He has published five books of poetry: Parallels, Coming Out Of The Atlantic, Electronic Forecasts,
Wildflower Women as well as his poetry baseball book, Ball On The Mound.