When you think you're a pair

And things aren't always fair

But you tend to go along ...

Because part is the same song



Till you find other directions

Which lead to some introspection

And you sort thru all your feelings

Some of which are other dealings



... Places you've been in the past

Before events came to task ...

And opened up the envelope

Fueled by a grab-bag of hope



And as the goodies all fall out

You see them as twisted spokes

Bending from the rim to the snout

Tightened by all the crude jokes



So you fill up the punch bowl

With fruit - pears and apples all

Tenderly placing them apart ...

To make sure past bruises won't start



And you consider alternatives ...

A fruitless bowl, but with time to state

Instead of all the hours now lost

By commutes endured, then tossed



- Tristram



(c) Christopher W. Thomas

7:57pm Monday, Aug. 3rd, 1998