The Barrel

Ryan Robson-Bluer

for Grandad

 

The barrel in the back yard brims

with rainwater all year round,

 

crowned with a thin film

of dead flies which you slice

 

with the flat of your palm,

splashing your feet and mine.

 

Dipping into the water

with your potato-muck hands,

 

you rinse your face

with winter rain

 

and stand and glean the dirt

from under each nail

 

with your dulled pocket knife.

You motion, it’s my turn,

 

and I laugh because I long

to do what you do,

 

to share in this, your ritual.

But I hear the kitchen sink

 

hissing out freshness,

and I leave you

 

to the rhythm of it,

to your little order of things.

  • Author: Ryan Robson-Bluer (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 31st, 2022 13:06
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 22
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Comments +

Comments1

  • hzugman

    Good job. Very descriptive.



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