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Those are deft and gentle

hands so expertly probing

about where muffled words

escape my mouth, lips

stretched in pantomime of

a smile as the hygienist

scrapes and softly enquires

whether I can manage to

endure her ministrations.

As children we dreaded the

dire dental office visit, trapped

within a miserable, painful

ritual that terrorizes all children.

As adults, gritting teeth we

submit to necessity.  In our

old age, no more reconciled

despite great strides in care and

management; the grim intrusion

and sensitive reactions cannot

redeem the irredeemable.