Power Outage

I drivel
into my digital recorder,
glance at my aging appliances,
the ones I’ve saved for twenty years.
My simple switch soldiers
bear a conspicuous ON/OFF.
 
No keypad.
No manual
requiring study
to install the batteries.
When the power goes out
and comes back on,
so do they.
What fine friends.
No res(e)t needed.
 
My VCR’s time
it flashed for decades.
I refused to set it.
When I did,
the power went off
like a dirty car
fresh from wash,
and pleading
for a dirty rain that’s sure to come.
 
I worry so
for the sweet,
the old,
who know only the skill,
the simple thrill
of an ON/OFF switch.
 
Those with glasses,
dimmer eyes,
strained ears,
can’t read the manual,
can’t handle the keypad.
They call out for help,
beaten and frustrated
by three TV remotes
staring them down.
 
And that is why
we have assisted living.
It helps them understand
what a fine, fine world
we think we love to live in.