Here’s what comes of it when I have too much time on my hands, and a Big Tent prompt to write a list poem. I can happily make lists of questions until the cows come home! These barely skim the surface…
Why do I only remember some of my dreams? Will people be routinely
microchipped one day? Why is it called wonder in a child, and nosiness
in an adult? Can the human mind truly grasp infinity? Will it ever stop
raining? If we all looked before we leapt, would we have come this far?
Would I have become a different person if I hadn’t eschewed Dick, Jane,
and Sally for the Cat in the Hat? Where indeed are the snows of yesteryear?
Will time tell? Does life imitate art, or vice versa? Does it matter? Will
the generation gap ever close? What is the actual proportion of inspiration
to perspiration? Does it vary from person to person? What if Big Brother
really is watching? Is it possible to be too connected? Is a miss as good
as a mile? Can words really fall on deaf ears? Do we add layers to ourselves
annually, like the grown rings of a tree? Will I ever run out of questions?