Day 25

Post Auricular
Touch this:
velvet lobe,
comfort
in tough times
then press
ever so gently
forward.
I love the
shallow spot
Norman Rockwell
mothers demonstrated
how to scrub
Saturday
playdirt clean so
stare-ahead Sundays
in pews were
less distractible.
Where fingers
linger, kisses
glance, and
even this morning
as I pause hand-
to-face to ponder
this poem, I
shelter,
in the little
nook behind
my ear that anchors
vibrations of
the given moment.
A touchstone
I’ll never see, but
seem to need.
Subtle circuit board
here, for
hearing.