Whine and Dine

They drift away in their whining bubbles

My feet tap unsettled, food getting cold

My passive eyes unfurl those greying bonds

Once common threads,

Once frizzle, now free

We branched apart

from the common tree

Their blatant views on the many,

“cringy”, “stingy”, “reckless”, “unfair”

They hate in a rush, judge in a hurry,

“The others” they loathe,

still boxed in the old

Torn, untethered in quiet,

adrift far they leave

The taste of a fine spring,

A table and the wind.