Typewriter
It was one of those rainy, overcast days
And she decided to do a little cleaning
As she dusted the furniture
Something caught her eye
The old typewriter sat in the corner
neglected, and dusty all over
Beside it lay its equally dusty cover
As she stared at it, her thoughts wandered
It was then that she started to reminisce
She thought back to her years
as a secretary, in a different place and time
When the typewriter was king
She recalled how the ribbon would smudge the paper
How she would crumple them up
And toss them in the trash can
The can would be overflowing at the end of the day
How the boss would chase her around the desk
That was more the rule than the exception in those days
She could still hear those keys
As they banged against the ribbon
She used to sing to the rhythm of those keys
A song that she couldn't recall at the moment
She suddenly felt an urge
To take this ancient machine
And clean it up
Making it look shiny and new
And then for old times sake
She started tapping on those familiar keys
It was then that the song that had eluded her
just moments before, came back to her
And she started singing to the rhythm of the keys
As the falling rain played a rhythm all its own
5 - 5 - 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
