Two wounded monkeys met in a tree
And made a nest of arms on a branch
It was a good place
And rain missed their heads under that canopy of leaves

But sometimes, in the shadow of their shade
One monkey would mistake the other monkey
for the one who caused the wound in the first place
Then, they would throw poo at each other

But that’s ok… sticks and stones
and poo doesn’t hurt so much… it’s soft
And like most poo, it was only part of the process to grow
Their tree grew larger, roots dug deeper, and it was ok

Because both the monkeys knew
that if they were not with another monkey with a wounded angel wing
then they would just feel alone
even if they were in another monkey’s tree

[For A Good Time
Contact Poet:
Wes Heine
Infinigon3@hotmail.com]