The Loner’s Faucet

Cold, running water from the faucet awakens the trouble-free loner - a poem.

He looks at the mirror with a half-open eye
And washes his cheeks with running water.
The trouble-free loner embarks with a sigh
On another day of business and chatter. 

His chin and neck, he shaves with a razor,
And cleans his teeth with an electric brush.
No vital decisions at work to savor,
An office of paperwork, making the push.

A final rinse of his mouth and a towel
To dry the moisture from his face and hands.
The face in the mirror looks mean and foul,
Patience and strength, this morning demands.

His faucet turned off, he feels more awake,
The water energizing his sleepy frown.
The empathic loner will continually take
This brief time, settling his morning down.

A middle-aged person with an air of resolve,
Deciding this morning his efforts won’t yield.
No close friends will his own life involve –
Just tired and working, a fate that is sealed.

With a noisy alarm and the help of a faucet,
The disciplined loner achieving the trick;
Not coming easy, but he has no regret –
No phone call made to call in sick.