At the Helm
It’s comforting to me to know
I always can depend
On something to replace whatever’s
Gotten to the end.
For each liquid soap or tissue box
Or butter, ketchup, bread,
There’s a new one waiting on the shelf
To take its place instead.
When growing up, what I’ve described
Was not the normal case.
If we squeezed out all the toothpaste,
There was none to take its place.
So I guarantee when my supplies
Are getting kind of low,
To the market or the pharmacy
Or stationer’s I’ll go.
We may repeat the lapses
Of our parents in their realm
Or correct what most annoyed us
When at last we’re at the helm.
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