Dad just said to phone
"He doesn't say very much."
Wonder who "he" is.

I see pain in him
Though he says all the right things
I hope he gets to vent

984

"Journalists' haiku"
some kind of oxymoron
like a silent scream

Ten On Not Driving

I mention driving
and you say, "Hm, interesting,"
And ask and ask more

Because I don't drive
you wonder how I function
using other words

I guess it makes sense
that most people find it strange
that I'm not like most

There's a kind of kind
that not only doesn't mind
but likes that I'm me

The me that I am
sees things one eye at a time
That's the way it is

And yes, not driving
is an unusual thing
in our small circle

And the city thing
is just a line that some say
Untrue, anyway

It makes sense of me
for you to frame it your way
Re-work what I say

I bless you to see
with depth and with perception,
with the kindest eyes

Now I'd like to pray
for none of us to lack drive
and also to see

Our isolation
and our connection are but
a thin line apart

Do contradictions
keep me from falling asleep?
They do and they don't.