SUNDAY POEMS

There was a time when giants walked among us

THE ART OF UNREASONABLE BEHAVIOR

Is it so unreasonable to believe that there is grace
in these alleys, behind those doors, amid the smoke
and clamor? Is it so hard to condone such behavior
when it loosens the spirit and penetrates the mind?
Why make a scene when it’s already on hand?

Listen. 

The alto reed, the stand-up man, the fingered 
keys, and the loosey-goosey, puckered-lips mess of it,
the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am collision of unruly
notes and unconcerned citizens, the lip-smacking 
pleasure of knowing that there are miles to go, 
that here is a bird in hand and there a monk seated 
among the sinners, that despite the worrisome tracks 
the train is right on time. 

What more could we ask of a town painted red or 
of the ones who wield the brushes?

©2026 Skip Berry