Poem: Talk About Trust

Putting our trust in the most amazing things and withholding it from the obvious . . . what's that all about?

Talk About Trust Mornings I hold my electric toothbrush     under cascading floods of water,     applying the paste, jamming one end     into a socket, 240 surging volts     and the other into my mouth Talk about trust And driving at night on twisting roads,     I hold steady to a speed far beyond     the range of my headlights,     rounding each curve in peace,     my mind on other things And it’s trust again that carries me But my trusting self is controverted,     limited to the things I can’t control,     like airplanes taking off,     pills I swallow and bridges crossed,     the transactions of my life Accepted, risked without a thought Yet I lock my house and lock my car,     keeping a hand on my wallet,     aware of my accomplice in the street,     the one who trusts his welfare to strangers,     but wouldn’t stop to light my cigarette Sharing a faith that’s limited to syndicates What franchise allows my trusting step     into open elevator-doors, confident     without looking that the elevator’s there,     but causes such a shiver up my spine,     at strangers' footsteps in the night So trustful of the many and yet un-trustful of the one

This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection BROKEN PIECES available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats.