In Black And White

Shuffling, scuffling down the aisle

To one of the small meeting rooms

Where one of the dads or moms

Suggested we do unto others,

Remember please and thank you

Always look someone in the eye.

We’d sit, watching the clock

Wondering what we might order

At the restaurant for Sunday dinner.

Sometimes we’d go to the Carolina Inn

Where the line stretched around the hotel

Out into the parking lot back toward campus.

After the meal, we gathered in the lobby

Fueled by fresh carbs and sugar:

A gang of fifth grade delinquents

determined to make noise and laughter.

Havoc reigned until one of the elders, most

Likely the one with the worst hangover,

Put a stop to the madness.

Usually, the parent would ask with a sour expression

if we’d learned anything in Sunday School.
And, obviously, we didn’t.

Again, we’d be reminded about

The wide gap between wrong and right.

We’d stare at our shoes until the rant

Was finished, and as we all went our separate

Ways, back to our family units, sometimes

We’d share a final snicker, rebels forever.

No surprise we became a pack of fools

Mindlessly scanning what’s ahead;

Our collective nose buried in 4G

Sharing askew selfies as if they were truths.

Centers of our own attention, cloaked in

Jim Carrey/Copernicus masks.

And yet, sometimes thoughts drift back.
Is it wrong or right.
How can we make it clear,

Put it all in black and white?

For a moment we engage,

Probably from guilt we can’t fathom.

But then, we dart away

Skimming the surface,

Posing, playing the game

So much taking without giving.

We enable those indulgent choices.

Never make a ripple.

Let it go, let it slide.

Nature will handle it,

Absolution at high tide.

As if gravity had a firm

grip on compassion and

one day it might let go.

We circle the wagons

Around special interests

Doling out favors and hate.

It might be borders,

Secret prisons or guns,

Clean air, water rights

Even healthy food.

Everyone keeps looking for a deal.

Cutting class or corners,

Cheap thrills in dismal motels

With strangers that once were friends.

I got mine, we insist; then we wonder

Why we’re never at ease.

Sometimes thoughts drift ahead.

Is there a way to make it right?

Can we make it clear,

Put it all in black and white?