You’re Fine
She said I was fine
as I tried moving my water bottle
from the bench seat in front of me
so she would have room
to sit anywhere on the bench.
Just fine, beautiful sounding words to my ears.
special words, heard for the first time in my life,
and I thanked her for the compliment.
Now that I have something that I can add
to my resume, I can retire from life with a smile.
Exhaustion
I developed a new hobby,
that of taking several naps during the day,
needing a long overdue rest,
for sleeping at night wasn’t working out
like it did for most others.
I took a nap in the morning,
a nap in the afternoon.
Was it because I was tired?
Was it because I wanted to see
less of the world,
taking an intermission from it?
I didn’t know.
All I knew was that I wanted
to close my eyes,
take a pause from what was going on,
maybe for the last time.
I will know for sure if I wake up.
Name Calling
It seemed to be the end of the world
when she asked her phone to pull up the menu
for the restaurant we were planning to eat at,
wanting to know ahead of time
what menu choices were available,
but it declined in bringing the menu up for her,
getting her angry when it refused, calling it names
after each attempt that failed.
Where were her manners,
did she forget what her parents had taught her?
Now, she and her phone, no longer friends.
Maybe she should have been friendlier
and her phone would have been more cooperative,
Maybe she needed to purchase a new one,
giving it training lessons,
or go to a training class herself
to learn how to be a friend to all,
but finally, she saw the menu
as we walked into the restaurant,
life continuing on as she placed her order.
A Forgotten Pot
The pot, filled with water,
was sitting on the range’s burner,
turned to its hottest setting.
Now, as the water boiled, the range
wondered who it was boiling this water for,
for there was no one around.
The one who had filled it up,
had left the kitchen, now nowhere in sight,
but maybe they believed in the philosophy
of a watched pot never boiled.
The pot kept waiting and waiting,
following the laws of science.
It did not whistle,
for it was not one of its abilities
to get someone’s attention
as the water slowly disappeared,
evaporating away into the room,
and the pan began doing a black face routine
from the burner element’s continued heat,
sending smoke signals out into the room,
a new language it had just learned.
Maybe now, the one who once filled the pot
would recognize the signal’s scent,
coming to its rescue before the house burned down.
About the Author
Duane Anderson currently lives in La Vista, Nebraska. He has had poems published in Fine Lines, Cholla Needles, and several other publications. He is the author of ‘On the Corner of Walk and Don’t Walk,’ ‘Conquer the Mountains,’ ‘Family Portraits,’ ‘The Life of an Ordinary Man,’ and ‘In the Eyes Of.
