WINDING DOWN

by Dane Slutzky 

Just as an escalator runs the risk
of suddenly becoming stairs

my sonicare decided
to transform
into a regular toothbrush.

How wondrous that I’ve forgotten
the motions of brushing my teeth
that I’ve made all my life,

and now, seeing my own
pupils turn to pinpricks
in the bathroom florescence,

instead of wrist wrist
elbow elbow, flexion
and extension,

I shimmy my entire body,
vibrating silently,
listening to my husband

asleep with a cold,
each exhale a single note
of a lonely oboe

or the distant sound
of a goose flying low
over a frozen lake.

Dane Slutzky lives in western Massachusetts. His poetry has appeared in Moon City Review, Heavy Feather Review, Zócalo Public Square, and elsewhere. Dane holds an MFA from Warren Wilson College and has received support from the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, Juniper Summer Writing Institute, and Vermont Studio Center.