Drip
He sits and stares at the leaky faucet in the bathtub.
Water droplets form and release again and again.
He sits and stares at the mesmerizing fluidity.
Each droplet is like a shiny lure to a brook trout - but he does not bite.
He is confident that he can fix this problem.
Yet something in his DNA tells him not to try.
He does not know yet about the lack of a shutoff valve for the tub.
To fix this leak he will need to flip the water main for the whole house.
He does not know yet that he will need a special tool to pull the faulty valve.
That's the first trip to the hardware store.
He does not know yet there are at least 100 replacement valves to choose from.
Each one looking like another – that’s the second trip to the hardware store.
He does not know yet that the store will not have the piece he is looking for.
The good news, according to the clerk, is he can get one within a week.
He does not know yet that he will need to go home and reinstall the old valve.
So that he can have water for his house while he waits.
He does not know yet that the defective valve won't go back in.
The o-rings have disintegrated and will fall off in chunks.
He does not know yet that his frustration will get the better of him.
His young son will wonder and learn from the angry words out of daddy's mouth.
He does not know yet that he will have to call a plumber to fix this mess.
Emergency Sunday rates will apply.
He does not know any of this, and yet somehow he knows all of it.
As he sits and watches the droplets fall.
He does not bite.
He does not bite.
He does not bite.
And then...
10:42:40 AM  Poems
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