A poem inspired by a conversation I had recently, and also just because it’s Monday:
Maybe I use the word “maybe” too much,
imagining motives that might or might not be
the actual meanings for certain behaviors,
when maybe I need to just think and keep mum.
Someone’s suggested a savvy solution:
stay silent, stop guessing, and simply say “hmm …”
However, if I’m to hum “hmm …” for an hour,
what will become of my quizzical questions?
Will they queue up in my querying mind?
Will I develop a wrinkled expression,
willfully wandering, seeking solutions
to confounding conundrums?
Will I go crazy?
Hmm? Well … maybe.