Day Sixty-eight

Today's words:

Handkerchief

Arm

Laser

Railway

Hazard

Fuse

Long ago, Daddy held his handkerchief

Up out my nose and said, "Blow." His arm

Held me close to him. His eyes were a laser

Beam, ensuring my safety as we started off on our railway

Adventure. No hazard

Could touch me. I think I'm starting to fuse

Several memories together. Perhaps I've blown a fuse.

But as I blew into that handkerchief

I knew I was in no hazard.

I leaned against his arm

As we entered the railway

Station. But he died before the laser

Surgery that could have saved him. They use a laser

For all kinds of things nowadays, to fuse

Things and to blast them apart, keeping the body's railway

Open. A white handkerchief

Waved at the end of an extended arm

Indicating a hazard

Up ahead. I'll hazard

The guess that there's a laser

Involved here, used as an arm

To fuse

The tracks (the handkerchief

Still waving) of the railway.

It isn't every day that the railway

Is forced to halt due to some hazard

Or other. The white handkerchief

Isn't too often seen. But even thought a laser

Can de-fuse

A bomb, or dis-arm

A terrorist, one arm

Of the railway

Tracks can fuse

With another to create a hazard

All on its own. The laser

Can't do anything about that. Daddy put away his handkerchief

And taking my arm, we avoided the hazard

Of the railway tracks, knowing a laser

Would fuse them later. I still have the handkerchief.