In the Eyes of a Sidewalk
Join me, along with my brothers and sisters
as you take your walk on our paths
lying along both sides of the street,
but unlike the streets, there are no signs in place
to identify us by name, so most times,
unlike one of our relatives, The Walk of Fame,
we remain nameless, unless you wish
to give us one of your own.
Yes, continue on with your walk,
for it is our intent to keep you safe
so you do not have compete with the cars
and trucks by walking in the street,
or step on the grass in other people’s yards,
and as you trudge along on your neighborhood voyage,
you may have noticed some of us have aged,
with cracks in our blocks,
some sinking into the ground, making us unlevel,
others, wearing green beards and mustaches
as weeds grow between our cracks,
so I ask you to watch where you are going.
We don’t want to see anyone trip and fall down,
after all, we don’t enjoy seeing scrapes
and bruises on your body,
and especially the sight of blood.
Yes, please take care as we guide you on your journey.
In the Eyes of a High Chair
Little be known to most,
but I am your first dining room table
where you ate your three meals a day
once you got off drinking infant formula
or your mother’s breast milk each day.
Food is placed on top of me,
but at this age, you have no manners,
and make big messes all over my top,
requiring constant sponge baths
to keep me clean after each meal.
Have fun while you are eating,
smashing food onto me
as you also do to the floor beneath.
I am your pre-school teacher, educating you
before you graduate to the kitchen table,
one, everyone else in the family now uses.
In the Eyes of a Washing Machine
Day after day, I wash your clothes,
getting started as you place your dirty clothes
in my mouth and close my lips,
gulping down a large drink of water,
a liquid refreshment of delicious
cold, cool, warm, or hot water
to wash down the shot of laundry detergent
you poured down my mouth,
but this is to let you know I prefer the taste
of liquid shots rather than those of powder,
but I won’t refuse what you have to offer,
and as it is digested and spreads itself
within the water surrounding your clothes.
I work hard getting your clothes clean,
making me proud when finished and I see
you wearing the clothes that I had washed.
It is then that I know a congratulations
is due to me for another job well done.
Squeaky Clean is my nickname. Please continue
making me proud by giving me many
other chances with your dirty clothes.
In the Eyes of a Television
I think I know why you stare at me so much.
It is because I am so good looking,
and you can’t keep your eyes off me.
Do you idolize me, and I am what you wish to become,
or do you just love the services I provide,
for I see you are addicted to me,
watching me, morning, noon, and night.
It seems you can never get enough of me,
like I am your mistress,
and we have become married,
so whatever show you wish to watch,
may your wish come true.
I won’t stand in your way and refuse you
from watching what you want to watch.
After all our time spent together,
I know your likes and dislikes,
and will continue to offer them all,
as you search through all my offerings
until you find what makes you happy,
but you and I know there are times when your cable service
and electrical provider decline your viewing when they
leave me incapacitated from their outages,
and I become helpless,
my strength taken away from me,
but other than those few rare moments,
get your snacks and drinks ready to go,
and spend your day with me. You know
my name is Television, the love of your life.
To read more poems by the same author, click here
About the Author
Duane Anderson currently lives in La Vista, NE. 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,’ ‘The Blood Drives: One Pint Down,’ and ‘Conquer the Mountains,’ and ‘Family Portraits.’
