Nine Years of Now

He who I believed I was
Passing through would wash his hands
And every time remember
Advice to savor the task,
The warm water and the suds,
To remain in the present
On the grounds that's all there was.

He never believed it, but
He was careful to savor
What in his mind was passing
As the past. Nine years he'd done
This: yes, it was always now,
And always already past,
But he'd come to love the task.