A Puzzle Fits with All of the Pieces
You search
and I search
both seeking the same thing
you hope
and I hope
that the other doesn’t know
we just keep on guessing
not piecing together
what you know and I know together.
Serving Size
The serving size was four cookies according
to the words printed on the side of the box,
but I decided to indulge myself and ate all of
the cookies, all thirty-two of them, counting
each one as they disappeared into my mouth.
I had a different interpretation of serving size,
after all, there was only one box, and my hunger told
me that one container was the correct serving size.
If I wanted another serving tomorrow, I would
have go back to the store and purchase another box,
though I guess I had another option of interpreting
the serving size listed on the side of the box, that of
having eight consecutive servings, one right after another,
whatever I needed to satisfy my hunger for cookies,
after all, it was just a suggested serving size,
non-binding, and left to my own interpretation.
Say a Hail Mary
One by one, they walked in circles on the
lower level of the building to get in some
exercise as they took a break from their job,
each going in a counter clockwise direction
as if the world would stop moving if
anyone went in a clockwise direction.
Some walked together, holding their phones
as they talked to each other during their stroll.
Others looked at their screens,
searching for lost buried treasures on the Internet.
Some texted, sending messages to others,
their importance unknown.
While others just listened to some of their favorite tunes,
with earbud headphones fully plugged into their ears.
No one seemed able to take a walk without
carrying their phone as if it were their security blanket.
Did they ask the phone if it wanted to go for a walk,
or ask it if wanted to rest to charge up its battery instead?
Heaven help them if they were seen without their phone,
for it might require them to say multiple
Hail Marys’ to repent for that sin?
Who’s Telling the Truth?
The neighbor’s dog jumped the fence,
out of curiosity I guess, to visit the yard
where three other dogs roamed
when they too were let out of their house.
I didn’t see him jump, but noticed
it wasn’t one of the dogs that belonged there,
and finally recognized whose dog it was,
and being a good neighbor, I figured
I better go over to the owners’ house to let
them know their dog jumped the fence again,
but as our neighbor opened his front door,
I could see all the way to their back door,
and there it was, waiting at the door,
an innocent pooch waiting to be let back in,
proving I must have been the one who was the liar,
telling his owner, what, who jumped a fence, not me?
About the Author
Duane Anderson currently lives in Olathe, Kansas. He has had poems published in Fine Lines, Cholla Needles, and several other publications. He is the author of ‘On the Corner of Walk and Don’t Walk,’ ‘Family Portraits,’ ‘In the Eyes Of,’ ‘Words of My World’ and ‘A Moment in Time.’
