Stray Sharing

Should I tell you about the sorrowless tree that weathers many a storm?

How it holds sway on a rainy day, how it’s eager to play along.

Should I tell you about the cute old man who sits by the window sill?

How he reads the paper backwards, sports, business, the op-ed, no politics, if you will.

Should I tell you about the neighbor's Labrador that suffers terrible mood swings?

How he wishes you'd just let him be, for once a dog, no pet, no playthings.

Should I tell you about the mighty mountains pinned to a friend's postcard?

How they tease, tempt, pursue like a dream, a dream that wouldn’t depart.

Should I tell you about gran's toothless smile and the will to keep at it?

How her wrinkled face tells countless tales, beyond boundaries of age-limit.

Should I tell you about enduring the misogyny of weary clueless men?

How their boxed minds silence new ideas, the right to second guess women.

Should I tell you about the full moon tonight, so bright in all its glory?

How its passive existence turns earthly tides, spinning another story.

Should I tell you about the book I am reading, its many characters and their flaws?

How they often remind me of some of my own, I wonder, reminisce, and pause.

Should I tell you about the songs in my playlist and the one that’s running on loop?

How it makes me think of you and your quirks and our secret two-people troupe.

Should I tell you about the incessant conversations that I often have alone?

How they’re about things I’d never tell you, no matter how close we’ve grown.

Should I tell you about how telling you about all of this is meant to be?

How stray sharing is my own little way of making you a part of me.