Because there’s no one else around to talk to.
I go through husbands like cheap, off-brand panty hose:
They run too easily,
Or I do.
Now why would that thought occur to me
On this glorious August morning,
With sunlight creeping
Through the Eucalyptus branches,
A steady calming string of gurgles
From the garden fountain,
And bees hovering
Over purple blossoms
Of creeping Thyme
Suurrounding the garden path?…
That’s what did it.