How you organize your life
is up to you

Your choices may bewilder me
but that’s on me

I may not understand what you smoke or why

how you learned to shoot

where you put your trust

who you worship

everything you are willing to sacrifice

But you offered me orange juice
and crackers

You made me laugh

You did not give up
(on me)

You never
turned me away

You may question my trips
through the drive-thru

My vague idea of bedtime

Nearly everything I allow my kids to do
and where I draw the line

You may think my priorities are sadly misguided

and that it’s embarrassing
that my heart so often shows up
naked
on my sleeve

You may judge me by my
worst day, my stupidest
mistake

Fair enough

I confess I don’t have a clue
what motivates you
why you don’t care
as much as I do
why it’s been so long
since I’ve seen you

I could spend far too long
trying to figure out

why it takes you so long
to open the door
after I knock

(as long as you let me in eventually)

why your religion contains so many rules

why you keep so many secrets

But that is not how I will use
this sacred time

© Betsy Rosenblatt Rosso, December 2019