Wringing the Rubik’s cube for a solution,
gentle skill reconciles nine tiny blue squares to become a face
segregated from the greens, reds, and yellows.
Your nimble fingers work salvation into the block
then offer it to me, a finished product fallen to my lap.
Music plays, people talk, we tell stories—life continues—
as I confuse the cube into madness and return it again.


2 thoughts on “Routine

    • Thanks Tina! 🙂 It was definitely a time of my life when I felt like I was messing everything up and this particular boy could fix them all for me. And he could, in fact, solve a Rubik’s cube. 🙂

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