The Ability To...

lie


White Lie

In another place
at another time
this rain would be falling as snow.

Instead of forming puddles
it would be filling the drive
and making getting to work difficult
and making getting to work impossible.

I'd be out there
trying to shovel it away
but as any snowman would tell you:
'It's just no go.'

I'd be phoning up and saying:
'This snow is making getting to work difficult.'
I'd be ringing up and saying:
'This snow is making getting to work impossible.'
I'd be calling up and saying:
'It looks as though I won't be able to make it today.

Maybe tomorrow.'

At another time
in another place
the impossible snow would be falling.

A million excuses would cover the ground.
All of them plausible.
All of them pure and simple.

I pick up the phone:
'This snow is making getting to work difficult.'

'What snow?'

'This snow is making getting to work impossible.'

'What snow?'

'It looks as though
I won't be able to make it today.

Maybe tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow?'

'Maybe.'


Ability 1

Poem copyright Bernard Young 2011