The Lost Roller Towel

The old cotton towel with border of red,
So dear to the heart of the printer or Drummer!
The damp cotton towel with smudges o’er spread,
So bracing in winter, refreshing in summer!
The sociable towel, a true endless chain,
That swiped all our faces and “came back” again!

The old roller towel – continuous crash, –
No single piece paper mop lately invented!
With dippers at school, it has gone all to smash,
By lovers of Mother Earth deeply lamented!
The towel as clean as a wet poodle pup,
So useful when using before you washed up!

The germ-covered towel, each microbe a twin,
So healthful, since, crowds, each killed off the others,
If Nature’s one touch makes the whole world some kin,
Her toweled embrace made the wipers all brothers!
The old house towel! Like dew on the buds,
The sweat of man’s brow bore the scent of his suds!

The People’s own towel in body and soul,
Rotating and mixing and never exclusive!
The sharing of burdens was taught in its roll,
The burdens themselves being somewhat intrusive!
The lost roller towel that turned for us all!
The old funky towel that rolled on the wall!

Harry C. Ficklen
Danville, Virginia,
March 2nd, 1926