Talk To The Hand

 

Creatures of a gloomy nature
blunder into each other,
chance crossings accounting for all
knowledge of fellow travellers.

Then there's us in the spotlight.
We love our neighbours as best we can
but more than smiles traded on steps
point us to where we would be.

Creatures in a grey evening
fight the foe they meet,
the bright shock of morning
tells who are the new mighty.

Then there are minds of great range.
Ages of time are no impediment
and proximity no necessity
so to speak as though no one is listening.

A conversation sadly neglected
is yet ongoing, animated, and loud.
Maturity of soul is fostered here.
Relationships crucial to the good life
form here. 

Come on in, you are most welcome.
Your friends are here, enemies too.
Perhaps those letters left unposted
may be related here.
Poems of so much wasted time
may here find their intended reader.

◄ It's Not That Simple

Of Philosopher Or Poet ►

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