Some many reasons

to walk your neighborhood.  Come across a cement bench in a park with no rain for a week and yet the bench's feet sit in a pool of water. I  In a child's voice, I ask "why."  A question for which there is no immediate answer makes me smile.  I continue toward the small garden of roses.  They don't disappoint either.  The roses delicate in an early morning kind of way. 

 

Have you ever considered

how a room sees roses?  Well, it's raining; rain is an excellent incentive to ponder such questions. 

 

Don't be misguided

nothing 
is a state
of floating
preferably
in color
through 
color
into
other
colors
until
the question
appears
what's for lunch  (and yes, questions are appearances, floating)

Hearing & seeing

It's been said there's nothing more satisfying that hearing a good story.
I say, there's nothing more rewarding that seeing a story.
Salads are like this, too.  Who doesn't love to see a vibrant salad?
Who doesn't love seeing a petite poem imbedded in a salad?
Who doesn't love hearing the poem in a drop of rain?
Who questions that a question is the perfect conveyance for hearing & seeing?

How many poems can be forged from a finite number of words?

Some questions are riddles. Forged from no-matter.



So, what’s for dinner? Now there’s a question worthy of poetry, invitation, necessity. Limited to the contents of the larder. Like poetry, a matter for play, for interpretation.