My sons have their own moccasins.
I’m troubled by my inability
To reconcile their lives with my own.
Probably their mother’s influence.
They are far more empathetic,
Less likely to discard
Opinions that are not in complete
Sympathy with their own.
None has a life plan,
Which is wise
Considering how suddenly today’s events
Depart from yesterday’s prognoses.
Most often the boys seem rational,
But, reluctant to accept or retain
An argument that relies on attachment
In lieu of evidence.
I hope they won’t carry reason too far.
It blocks the vision of choices
That might include the bizarre,
Where often a better, if dangerous, future might lie.
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