SCRATCH THAT

You reach when my arms fail,
and bail me out in a pinch.
Prickly sting, you bring me
comfort and ease. Please
don’t let me down without
the courtesy of a reach around.
I’m glad I found you, but there’s a hitch,
a little to the left is where I itch.
Irritant catcher; back scratcher.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2012

WE WRITE POEMS Prompt #116 –  Unexpected descriptions