The Cement
There’s usually, in every group,
And often evident,
One person who is not in charge,
But rather the cement.
The one who makes things happen
And who brings all factions in,
Assuring that each person’s there
And ready to begin.
The one the others turn to
When a problem might arise.
Who knows when someone’s out of line
And cuts her down to size.
It isn’t necessarily
The one with all the brains,
But someone with the people skills
To soothe disparate strains.
Without this member, groups would fade
In throes of discontent,
For gatherings won’t hold together
If there’s no cement.
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