They’re fighting again - <br />disrespect and indifference woven into their raised voices, <br />fury and famish lighting their four eyes, their two and two. <br />There is no sanctuary that exists between them now, <br />(if ever there was one to begin with): <br />no secret place of comfort, of consistency, <br />of continuity, of care. <br />They are, each, alone in their own world, absent a haven, <br />firing rockets into a foreign land. <br /> <br />How is it possible that they lay down together each night <br />and not understand that human need rests between them? <br /> <br />Did they really think another dog, another cat, some fish, <br />a new car, a new baby, new floors, a new day <br />an apology, a distraction, a vacation, <br />a picnic, a party, a problem to solve <br />a discussion, a diet, a debt <br />a history, a promise, a moment <br />a long drive, a shortcut, a wide berth <br />a decision, or simple denial <br />might squeeze the thing out? <br /> <br />~ <br /> <br />They’re fighting again – <br />Again, again <br /> <br />Again. <br /> <br />~ <br /> <br />Damn fools. <br /> <br /> <br />.<br /><br />Christine Austin Cole<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/next-door/
