Wednesday, October 22, 2014

OctPoWriMo #21: Fingerprints

My fingerprints
are lost in the whorls
of others better suited,
one more smudge on a
community glass of
water and only
the dregs
left for sipping,
back-wash remnants
from my betters.  I drink
gladly and leave some of my
spit for those who come
after.  The water is
tepid but they
will drink.

Everyone drinks.

Poet's Note:  The prompt was about presence...about fingerprints and footprints and evidence of our passage.  I suspect the poem I came up with says more about my mood than about anything else.

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