Being Wrong

It’s an awful feeling to be wrong Like a fish thrown back and having to explain the trick to others Or a child at the chalkboard Walking back to his desk After the equation was wrong And how it didn’t equal just right Or mostly in work when we’re wrong At the big meeting table Beginning the lie And lying to be right Or massively in marriage Singing the wrong song To our lovely spouse Playing ping-pong And running like a mouse And how we watch the news Which is never wrong to us And which we must discuss. And how a very young rock at the bottom of the Grand Canyon was thrown by some tourist and settled in a basin of abject agelessness. The rock felt shame. But being wrong is right. Like the ocean waves that fall back again And the erosion of the beach And your tears And how they stop and go on your cheek. Being wrong is right Without our petty spite Being wrong on earth Is a barn with mirth.