The Bathtub: A Poem

Photo by cottonbro on

I started scrubbing my bathtub when I was only eight years old.

My hands got wrinkly, as you’d expect.

Presently, I noticed my beard.

It was long and grey; I had to hold it up out of the way so I could spray the surround

On the tub I had been cleaning for so long…

A child I did not know walked into the room.

I was sure I had never seen him, but there was something familiar about his eyes…

He spoke: “What are you doing, Grandpa?”

And I wondered if it had all been worth it.

-Brandon J. Kohler

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