the search for meaning

I hear the women arguing
about baking recipes

and the riots as they sit

around their knitting circle out on
the front porch.

balls of colored yarn
roll around the big deck.

I see a few bottles of chardonay

scattered about.

I live next door and wave to them.
some wave
back and others shake their heads

in  disgust. don't talk to that man,
one says.

he's the one that kicked his wife
out of the house for cheating on him.

I get my ice tea and settle into my
big chair.

I turn to page one of
Man's Search for Meaning
by Frankl.