Men
We had perfected our monkey moves Growled while pounding, smiled while joking, flexed when peacocks were near And then Tired of our own repetitive noise Retreated to our little man caves Not so much to enjoy the quietude of games But because we bore ourselves with limited tricks We could not retell We could not spin again Threads on a sweater long discarded Words in a song from a love departed Weary of limits All that youthful energy weaving our own chains We have waded along the shore Hoping to become ocean Sinking deeper as sand Like friends Seek greater depths









