A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Saturday, December 16, 2017

tongue and tooth

As I age, I've begun
to do some things automatically. Every
time I drink something cold, I find
my tongue,

without being told,

rolls left to lie
upon the facings and cusps
of the first three molars
in the upper left

of my mouth.
So they don't chill and ache, which
they never used to do.

I remember some years back I was drinking
something cold, when
that unaccustomed ache began.

I couldn't account for it.
I always drink something
cold, I love drinking something
cold; it's never been a
problem. Anyway

the problem just went away
mysteriously, shortly after.

I just realized now, it was my tongue.

Rolling
over, without being told,

sensing on its own
what comfort needs

like a faithful dog

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