Standing Room Only

Volcanoes to the ancients,
Eclipses around the same time,
Things that were totally unexplainable,
Things that inspired awe.

That was our coffee table this morning,
Normally a place of sedate conversation,
Organized politely in a circle,
Accommodating for anyone who wants to sit in.

This is how it rolls,
We run, three, five, or seven
High fives in the parking lot,
Coffee around the table.

It’s great, just hanging,
Sometimes I listen,
Mostly I am procrastinating,
Putting work off.

Not true, I love hanging with this group,
But (not bad) we are creatures of habit.
Same routes, same paces,
Nearly always the same seats at the table.

This morning the flock was diverse,
Some took the three,
Some ran off for the five,
A couple sort of ran seven.

The seven’s conversation ran the gambit,
Life has many facets,
It’s cool talking things out, joking,
And taking serious walking breaks.

The run ended, the table was packed,
My overly big, old green shirt sagged with sweat
And I knew that whoever got the seat after me
Might need the sausage toed floaty to help them out.

I made the decision to stand,
Hanging on the fringe drinking my coffee,
Listening to the conversation, and
Making those telepathic jokes that the devilish ones tune into.

Then the volcanoes erupted,
The sun was blocked by the moon,
The unexplainable was in motion,
Everyone was standing.

It was a middle school party,
We were all up, circled up,
Talking shit, the kind that’s funny at six AM,
But might get you shot at six PM…we’re old…

There was an exploration of the word “It,”
Maybe the best personal pronoun,
Vague, lazy, and potentially inappropriate,
“It” is worthy of conversation. (See…)

Runner jokes flew,
Those being of the kind that are just above Dad jokes
Dumb and funny,
It was awesome.

Alas, work called, not really, but it was time to go,
I wanted margaritas to go,
But that would not go over well in my job.
So it is.

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