I stand at the intersection of
compassion and self interest,
thinking how life can make
such an ugliness of us all
or is it how we make such
an ugliness of life?
Cheeks change from
cherubic to sallow,
hour by hour.
From jaundiced to
jaundiced we go, from
sweet to salt to sour.
It’s a highway
look both ways
stick your foot out
edge in slowly
jump over the effluvium
making its way to the drain
there’s an isle of equilibrium in the medium strip
flowering shrubs grow there
where no one waters them but the rain
and the exhaust of whizzing vehicles
they’re just hanging out
someone stuck them there
what’s a shrub to do?
but flower…
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hmmm…”Why did the shrub cross the road?”
To flower the other side,
Or to get to the crux of the matter?
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Wow. This is a deep one. I stand at this intersection all the time.
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I think perhaps we all do all the time, just more or less aware at times…
Thank you Alice.
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Yup. Very true.
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Brilliant, Johnny. It is dangerous to stand in an intersection too long. Sigh.
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indeed, one could easily get creamed…
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The last two lines have a delightful rhythm despite the bitterness. Great metrical feet. . . .
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Thank you Jeremy. And I didn’t feel these to be necessarily bitter, though I guess they sound that way. I was thinking more of the matter-of-fact inevitability of aging. I’m glad to hear that bitterness is tempered by the rhythm. I guess there was more going on behind the scenes in this one than I realized. Thank you once again for shining your light on that!
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