Mixed Nuts
Thrown together
by circumstances
outside our realm
of control-
as in a bowl
our varied shells
create a still-life
a study in contrasts
of creative coverings
devised so well
Some like smooth pebbles
all polished and shiny
or rough and scarred
all coarse and craggy
Some barely masked like
peanuts, thin and papery
others heavily armored
walled off, impenetrable
Light and dark
bitter and sweet
mere tender morsels
in our shells
vulnerability itself
delicately raw
ever so fragile
and flimsy-frail
Need for these shells
protective coverings
begs the question-
Who hurt you?
which echoes back
over and over
to you
and you
and you
and you-
Who hurt you?
Was it your mother
father, brother?
Sister, cousin, uncle
aunt?
Can't we figure out who
hurt who?
Can't we stop this
question chant?
Who hurt you?
Who hurt you?
Who hurt who?
Some would like to
crack the shells
open every one
up wide-
But, for me
I'd have to take
quite a different side
For shells are Nature's
loving way
of protecting
what is good
so shells are not
the enemy
they're doing
what they should!
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