Butter
Muscle
Hail
Old man
Curtain
Blanket
The butter
Glistened like oil on the muscle.
As the hail
Pelted down the old man
Peered around the curtain
And drew the blanket
Around his shoulders but the blanket
Slid to the floor and pooled like melted butter.
Behind the curtain,
Flexing a muscle,
The old man
Stared out at the hail.
As the hail
Rained down, under the blanket
The old man
Rubbed butter
On his sore muscle
As he peered through the curtain.
On the other side of the curtain
The hail
Let up. His muscle
Still sore, he drew the blanket
Tighter and rubbed more butter.
This being an old man
Stuff sucks. Being an old man
Was never his idea. He drew the curtain
And put away the butter
As the hail
Melted outside. He clutched the blanket
And rubbed his muscle.
That sore muscle
Reminded him he was an old man
Wrapped in a blanket.
On the other side of the curtain
The hail
Melted and was the color of butter.
He used his muscle to push back the curtain,
Just an old man looking out at hail,
Wrapped in a blanket and slathered in butter.
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