Missing Topanga.

I just posted.
Then read back two weeks.
Seems there are questions
On our minds.
My friends and I.

How is it I was not influenced
By pre-reading and yet, we,
Those of us in May,
Are pondering, seemingly,
Identical questions?

One cries to be allowed, finally,
To gift us with writing full-time.
Or me, writing all the time
Just in my mind,
Because I cannot write all the time.

Asking big questions.
Answering big questions.
I am struck by the kinship.
And regret when on that rainy day
I missed Topanga with them.

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