Routine

ROUTINE

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.

rubik