We are best among our own
Where our very voice is known amid
The scatter and swirl of
So many veiled faces and
Ugly opinions
The options are too much with us
Perhaps a bit too
Perilous and slippery as are now
The stream-stones of our once
Sure-footed youth
When our mothers switched the porch lights
Off and on
Off and on
They
Peering from the pained
Windows in the fading winter blue
as if wishing well to play likewise
among the perilous youthful stones
Unsure of their slicked-souled and
Outdated shoes.
Our options divide us among our own
Like so many scattered and swirling
Tongues
Babbling with our veiled faces and
Ugly opinions