We have all had those days, weeks or even months when not one, but two or more things break, leaving us frustrated and maybe broke too. I had a run of broken things recently, inspiring a poem that helped me to laugh about my windy mishaps.
Boisterous Toots and Bursting Bubbles
My Dyson swallowed a shriveled bean that met its fate
on the cold floor instead of a warm plate,
causing the rechargeable dirt-sucking device
to whistle, whimper, then die.
My clarinet exhaled a boisterous toot
confidently (and perhaps a bit obnoxiously), its note filled the room
then floated to the yard where it gave the birds a scare.
The old woodwind did break the wind it loved to share
when its crumbled cork tumbled to the floor, cold and bare.
I must now get on my hands and knees
and pick up the pieces that my dead Dyson left for me.
Our backyard spa sprung a leak –
difficult to determine the source of the steady stream,
now watering pavers, bursting my bubbles, and making my desert oasis disappear.
I put on my suit, but the jets I cannot join tonight; the jacuzzi panels were removed.
Looking for a different spot to ponder life under the stars and the moon.
I found it, on solid ground; the itchy location will have to do.
Final thoughts about my unusable things …
It blows that my Dyson vacuum no longer sucks, and it sucks that my spa and clarinet no longer blow. 😂
Copyright © 2020 Michele Lee Sefton. All Rights Reserved.