Keep on Moving

Katherine Miller

Ouch!
The dishes seared at the touch,
The glass roughed my tips,
The silver wear radiated heat,
Standing back, I try again.

The tears stream down my face,
As hot as the Dishes under my control,
I keep on moving to get the job done,
No matter where my head is.

I replay it over and over,
Please, I beg you to calm down,
I will empty the dishwasher right away,
Then for my own good,
Will you please leave me alone?


This poem is really just a recent thing, about a figt between me and my father. He instructed me to empty the dishwasher which I did not object to doing. My first attempt burned my hands and I swore to myself, along with notifying my mother that I would be back in five minutes. In the meantime my father comes to my room and sees that I am not emptying the dishwasher. He drags me to the kitchen where he yells at me and makes me do it again. Writing this poem helped me to release my built up anger I had towards my father while writing this poem.