The goose booed

Like an arrow
point,
narrow
sharp,
I poke my nose in
to
take a gander, but
it’s none of my business.

I bow out.

So may the rule be
that what we don’t see
don’t hurt.

But what we feel is as real
as
the arrow,
as plain as the nose on my face
is set in place for a reason and
for that reason
I poke my nose in, but
it’s none of my business.

© 2015, John Smallshaw.