Some whiskers that were on my chin,
have rebelled and are off again.
Unsure the way they left, or how,
but they're back; up in my brow.
Growing North, South, East and West.
I wish they would grow, with the rest.
There never was a brow that was dark
so I assume this growth but a lark.
I have the bedroom window open
and the wind moves the slats.
Awakening, I forget where I am;
still in our bed, toasty warm.
I hear the splatter of new rain,
tap dancing on the roof
as clouds loose their torrent
on the thirsty earth.
Joined together or be apart?
A good question for the heart.
Do we stand alone or with another?
Time will tell, Sisters and Brothers.
Off we go into a life of pain.
Away from love's sad refrain.
I care not about the fate of me,
Just leave me now. Let me be.