“What is that?”
a boy, two seats over
echoes my thoughts
“I’ve been wondering that too!”
I blurt, disregarding social protocols.
What are the protocols for people
herded onto a ferry, headed across
open water, seated in close proximity
to neighbours?
“A whale?”
his mother asks, obviously as eager
as I to catch sight of one.
“Not whale behaviour, really –
it hasn’t submerged.”
“Sometimes they roll on the surface.”
I’m not an expert on whales, but doubt it.
“It’s a boat,” the father declares
bursting our bubbles.
A curtain draws between us –
they return to their lunch
and talk of things unrelated to whales.
(Today’s challenge is to incorporate dialogue into our poetry.)
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I like this poem very much. I , too, have wondered about the strange social protocols that keep us from conversing with strangers. Seems the world might be so much better if we disregarded them more often.
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My mother always disregarded them – she can set anyone at ease. You are right -it makes for a better world.
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“It’s a boat.” THIS is how our childlike sense of curiosity and wonder gets squashed. Good for you for encouraging the child to imagine other possibilities, no matter how unlikely or remote.
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Thanks Heide.
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I disregard social protocols. No stranger danger for me. There’s nothing wrong with saying hello. You may be the only person to notice them. Too bad it was a boat! 😉
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I know! drat!
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