People from our past keep popping up; they heard that we returned "home."
I always thought we'd keep in contact, no matter where we roamed.
But, it seems that face-to-face time is what most people feel comfortable with,
No matter how much the written word is that for which I wish.
We are being called upon to come out and catch up with our friends --
It's so much safer to communicate when I can edit before hitting "send."
I guess most people are more comfortable with the fleeting nature of life,
Where I don't trust that the good memories will be there in times of strife.
I want to take out stories of love and personal triumph that were written to me
Whenever I become overwhelmed by the unpleasant things I hear and see.
I can curl up under the covers or hide in my own house,
Savoring the kind words of friends and being quiet as a mouse.
This way misunderstandings may be fewer and farther between;
I was taught to stay out of trouble by being neither heard nor seen.
I was never good at obeying these social nicety directives;
There's something in my lady-like gene that obviously is defective.
I must remember that these folks are citizens of New Orleans
Where loud and proud women are simply part of the local scene.