Poem: conversations

[tahariel]

We talk about
                        everything –
            words rambling like briars over
fertile ground, reaching
                        for some common goal, some
            shared opinion. We
                        disagree, sometimes, but gently.
We agree, mostly, in a rush of same syllable synchrony,
        tripping over one another, tanglefooted.
                                    Bedtime comes too soon.
                                    So do phone bills.