Obsessions
Like the nagging tug
of tiny insistent fingers
on my sleeve,
or withered hands
on a wooden spoon
stirring a simmering cauldron
restless bubbles bursting.
The bowl is washed clean,
I checked for spots,
yet my sponge
could have moved
in more graceful circles
across its surface.
Sighing as I walk
with measured steps,
missing cracks,
wads of chewing gum
black with age.
My sock bunches,
a misplaced seam
rubs my toes.
I stop to adjust it,
reach down to find
I’m not wearing socks.
Just my naked feet
inside old tennis shoes
with worn out soles.
Brian Rihlmann was born in New Jersey and currently resides in Reno, Nevada. He writes free verse poetry, much of it on the confessional side. He has been published in Blognostics, Red Eft Review, Spillwords, Synchronized Chaos, Cajun Mutt Press, The Rye Whiskey Review, and others.
