SMALL WORLD
A boy learned that the truth leaves tracks
when we were young explorers
on the trail to understanding this world –
and when mischief leaped to stir our senses,
we could not hide our way back
with lies, without leaving tracks behind.
We may forget them, even – hope the wind
and weather erase the proof
lurking in the dark, waiting to shake hands
and be friends again. That’s who we were,
once upon a time before
talk got so expensive, so multi-syllabic,
so close to home. We have come to believe
that we are the assonance,
and wear our simplistic slogans like Nashville
sequins and whole earth ball caps, so often
that we want to become them,
hoping to hide the truth of being human.