Monday, October 15, 2007

Ode to a finger

O finger, O finger, how can it be
that connected together we'll no longer be?
But short, a stub will stand in your place
for table saws rarely offer much grace.

Many have fallen with the same end,
It offers no comfort when losing a friend.
For together we've always been from the start
and losing you now? Well, it just breaks my heart.

Tomorrow I'll wake, Tim will help me get dressed,
Then to surgery we'll go where you'll meet final rest.
Not easily forgotten all we did in our dance,
I'll have to relearn how to button my pants.

Fondly I'll remember all the things that we did
typing, tickling, nose picking as a kid.
Alas, Alack killed in your youth
Forgotten, disregarded, like a young child's tooth

I know I will have to move on without you
but I know in my heart you will think of me too
And one day again we will frolic and play
Where table saws no longer get in our way

















Two days earlier

1 comment:

Rebecca said...

It is a beautiful ode to a wonderful finger! Oh finger you are missed.