He has used it to wipe the filth
from the table where his daughter
has left him to do her shopping
spilling it from the pocket of his jacket
like a small blue lake
the color of an old housedress
Now he is folding it back into shape
with blunt fingers, hunched
over his labor, watching intently
his hands as though
they might betray him
For ten minutes this has been
his whole work, & he has gathered
all the deliberate threads
of his attention into this single
act, oblivious to the fact
that anyone might be watching,
that he might be teaching us all
how to live.
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