Of all the body parts we own, our nose
is pointedly the one that doesn’t stay
where it belongs. It sniffs prevailing winds
and chases rumors—huffs them in and puffs
them out (with variations on the theme).
Beneath a haughty sheen, it sneaks behind
the neighbor’s fence where gossip grows, and seeks
the place where folks conceal their naughtiness.
It pokes away at closet walls until
they fall . . . and all their secrets tumble out.
A nose was meant to be attached; to serve
its owner with delight and as a means
of warning of surprise attacks. It should
not be cavorting in the streets, intent
on scents of business that are not its own.
Copyright © Laryalee Fraser • Used with permission • All rights reserved.