Ode to a Wire Brush
       

Never was walking
a greater penance
than for one without any feet
& legs more numerous
than the corrosive rain.
And the to-&-fro of it:
pacing is a refuge
when you can't stand still.
Do it long enough
& distraction turns into discipline,
the ground warms
& acquires the hard gleam
of an interrogator.
You confess, confess, confess.
Your tracks are covered
with a thin brown dust.

Copyright © 2010 Dave Bonta All rights reserved
from Odes to Tools
Phoenicia Publishing
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission