Dread

by Darlene Graf

One day I’ll be wiping the counter
with the sure muscle of terry cloth
at my command
me, morning bee, in control
stops me mid-swipe
the floods, the heat
all so close
I feel plunged into the hottest bath
A yellow melt of rubber ducky
Its beak a one dimensional splay of orange
like a lick of fire
I have arrived
into the future
wide open
and gaping as a broken jaw
drooling
I told you so