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Don Bouchard
Poems
Mar 2016
Awkward
We meet again;
No thunder, lightning,
Nor no rain,
But awkward,
Just the same...
Conversation turning dour,
Work complaints
Almost an hour...
Birthday wishes?
Realize a party's
Not for sighs,
Not for damning
Others' eyes,
Not a time to criticize,
Nor office lies,
Nor padding chubby thighs.
Times like this,
I realize,
It's office parties
I despise,
And pine away
For open skies.
Awkward.
Reflections on things I detest.
Written by
Don Bouchard
65/M/Minnesota
(65/M/Minnesota)
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