in dishes made for food
in cups made to drink
***** hands will hold them up to block the sun

like people forced to work
to soften clanks against their plate

a stair rail forced to break
sits kindly beside it’s well
exactly almost where it’s meant to be

like mom starts her shift
beneath her wheels will turn
and turn and turn

a worn down walking cane
pushed through door handles
assigned to keep it shut against the wind

a woman limps across
with all her weight she leans
between the handles, against the creaking crane
exactly almost where it’s meant to be

like when i go to work
the pull of chatting with a friend
you feel the forming group
exactly almost where i’m meant to be
exactly almost
exactly almost where I’m meant to be