Direction

What happened to my compass
I had it when I was a cub scout
Learning about directions
Stuck in a drawer somewhere
I hunt so many drawers in a home
The longer you live
More drawers filled with more things
Useful at the time you bought them
Organized into categories
That made sense at the time
Now just seem only cluttered
In an order no longer understood
My father taught me how to read it
I didn’t know how to find direction
Funny how simply examining drawers
Can raise such a sweat on a cold night
Here’s a promising collection
My father’s old watch
A canister of toothpicks
A plastic container that held his dentures
His hearing aids still stuck with wax
A horseshoe key chain from some casino
A miniature bible verse book
A box of matches
But still no compass
Glancing at his watch
I see the hands are clasped
Pointing northward
Under a minute to midnight
After all these years I raise it
And the second hand ticks forward

* * *

Note: This is my rough draft for Saturday 01.20.24.