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Order of My Universe

by Bruce W Niedt


Outside the door
are pansies, two-tone purple in pots,
and matching banner

fluttering in seasonal breeze,
announcing the nation of our house,
my wife’s perfect order.

Not to criticize –
she always comes through in the clutch,
and disheveled me, I’ve been bailed out a few times.

But sometimes, the house is like a coat rack,
a hook for everything,
a designated place.

I want to muss things up,
leave last night’s quiche in the sink
just to throw off the universe a little.

It’s anarchic, I know,
but something I haven’t the heart to do,
like turning down the thermostat when she’s cold.

This natural order is something
I’m comfortable with now,
like the kitchen clock that’s three minutes fast.

If I tried to reset it,
everything else would tumble,
like books off a broken shelf.

04/19/2002

Posted on 04/19/2002
Copyright © 2024 Bruce W Niedt

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Nicole Assenza on 12/04/05 at 11:13 PM

At first I thought you were complaining about married life but in the end I realized you're just adjusting to it. It's pretty sweet, actually.

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