It’s funny how we stop talking and talk again.
We come and go like the weather.
The way we are. Why are we like this?
With people, I mean. It’s hard to say hello
when we hate someone, even harder when
we love them.
We escape our homes for our own personal
adventures. We rebel, naturally. Sometimes
the world slows, though, and you notice only
a hand on another hand.
© Michael Holloway