Debates

When I look up, I see the debates,
all of them. The news anchors
debate the commentators debate
the experts. The commoner debates
the elitist. A renegade doctor
debates an angry mother. My neighbors
don’t seem to debate but
their bumper stickers do it for them:
judo, Yoda, skateboarding,
all saying yes you can
while others say no you can’t;
the argument carries out across
the perfectly mowed yard. And I
debate everything — my partner,
my doctor, the shop clerks, the
car guy tire guy oil guy — they
seem to need it —

still, I come out at morning
and look at the last dim stars,
hear birds (one at a time
then two and then three and finally
more than that) and notice a car
heading by for work; he waves
and I wave back; it seems quiet,
naturally so, and in agreement with that
I close my eyes and pretend
that it will always be so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T