Elegy for an Electric Toothbrush
Alas, my toothbrush has completely died.
The charger, which had lent such energy,
must have, it seems, some circuit that has fried,
benumbing that once-keen alacrity.
But lo, a silver lining from my tongue
I must proclaim: to wit, the nature of
th’ electric toothbrush counts itself among
such stuff as escalators from above
or crayons snapped in twain, which e’en when broke
continue serving as they had before.
Though its electric life has passed, each stroke
of this, my silent toothbrush, does its chore:
With buzzing or without, the tool, forsooth,
still nobly toils to polish every tooth.