Homecoming

The first thing I do each morning, as per agreement with my wife, is to empty the dish drainer before the rest of the day starts. And so a few years back, I wrote a poem about it.

 

Homecoming

 

Each night they spend in exile.

 

Each morning I return them to their home.

 

Lift the pots from the dish drainer and put them on the shelf.

     Carry the spoons to their drawer, 

            the bowls to join their nested siblings,

                    tuck the knives in their slots. 

 

 

Each day I teach, it’s the same.

      Carrying the children on the wings of song

              back to where they belong.