Why Don’t We Hang Out More?
I asked Robin this. He responded with a poem (as poets are likely to do).
Why don’t we hang out
more often, you ask.
You might as well wonder
why the sky is blue.
We’re adults doing grown up
stuff, not kids with time
for anything goofing off.
Sure, it’s an attractive call, yet
doing nothing unimaginable,
slips us by, a morning’s dancing
sparkle on the water we haven’t
noticed, we’re so caught up
in our day. What’s the return
on hanging out, no plan, just
being around each other, you
groaning at my puns, me
taking your relationship with God
to heart, maybe dozing off
on your couch, or at the park
catching each other’s thoughts,
discovering things about
the other we had no idea
about, or just nothing, seriously,
zip. Could become our work
of art. Just let’s be
together, seems your point—
not why we should, but what
are we missing?
