I do not know why so many things seem to come together at once.
Like five birthdays in the same week,
Or three phone calls in a row,
when the line had been dead for an hour.
I do not know why "when it rains it pours."
Like why couldn't it just drizzle,
or mist even?
I do not know why things fall apart
and humans break so easily,
Like tinkling glass on tiles.
I do not know why I like bird whistles,
but tell you to shut up in the shower.
Like your voice is worthless without wings.
I do not know why your path and my path
are traveling in the same direction,
as constant and inherent as
the salmon swims upstream.