John Harms
ENG 294
Fall 1998

It Speaks Its Unspoken Fable

the bathroom sink.

You can only imagine how many stories

my bathroom sink would tell,

if somebody could understand it.

Showing its supposed age

with burn marks and stains of time,

left from previous tenants.

The edges around its countertop turning brown,

what used to be white in its younger days.

The surface of the countertop,

a mix of various green and beige patterns;

what probably looked young and vibrant

is now faded and dulled.

Around the basin shows more burns and scuff marks,

and some leftover water from hours before.

A light stain shows where the water has traveled

and where it now waits for its eventual evaporation.

A few chips and cracks show where

others have carelessly dropped other objects in to it.

It cannot possibly show its true pain.

Around the sink, on top of the faded countertop,

rests the items of its current users,

used and moved around from day to day.

To add to the busy look,

the sink also supports fallen hair from owners' scalps,

and shavings that must have missed the inside,

or didn't get washed down the drain with the rest of it.

Although the sink is slowing dying away,

it has but one feature to display and boast.

Out of the burned, stained, and cracked basin

shines a bright faucet and fixture,

with that shiny silver look, new and strong.

Its handles unstained and undamaged.

The drain, as shiny as a brand new one still in the box.

The only way this bold outcast dares to show its age

is from the water that runs through it

little bits of white calcium building,

well hidden under the inside of the faucet,

but easily seen with the right type of eyes.

The sink, still giving off the scent of lemon hand soap,

sometimes goes unnoticed.