Two Are The Ways
Like those fish in the lake, he is ready to swim.
Would fly if he could, lacks only the wings
For that initial lift
And when he looks up at us
Does he not crave
These manipulative hands
To open the fridge, where’s hid all the treats
Or the front door
So he’s no need to wait
To go out and play?
Oh, don’t listen to that
We’re on different tracks
Outside they don’t even hear
all those delicate sounds,
that mellifluous everywhere-balm
for voluptuous ears,
or those delicious odors
with which the world is replete.
And at the table
when they sit down to eat
they may say
how good something tastes
but rarely a word
about that terrific smell.
On alternate paths We go down our lives Isn’t it amazing
That we’ve met?