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Drinking Water
Two glasses of water
wait to be touched by hand and lip.
The water itself remembers the taste
of whiskey, sarsaparilla, Fixodent;
the salty funk
of being swallowed down the throat
of one experience after another.
Memories are in the water
swimming hither and thither.
The glasses contain minds, set aside
for the drinking of.
The water also drinks,
swallows parents, grandparents,
wives, multiple layers of children;
they all swirl so slowly in the water
that only equally slow thoughts
can reveal them.
Two elderly men
reach for the same glass of water at once.
There is a momentary confusion,
lifetimes interchange like a mixed drink,
they begin to speak of people
only one of them should recall,
as if the past had always been
but one glass after all.
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
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