i sit

i sit in the quiet house

the vast and heavy silence

brings a chill that seeps

through and tingles a lonely spine,

there sits atop a dark tabletop 

the crumbs and remains of

a chocolate cake, a treat

shared between friends.

but now, how the icy air

sends all senses of warmth

and closeness away 

to the wind.

an alarm chimes for eight

and the morning sun scares

off all thoughts of doubt and

loneliness.

i sit in the car behind a man,

the mask hides my face

and i avoid all conversation,

the quiet lasts all the way to the airport.

security is bumbling with life

and shouting commands at

the weary travelers just

trying to make it home…

Thanksgiving – a time to come together,

and yet we are so far apart

quarantined from a virus that many

fail to accept as real.

i sit alone as i wait 

for the instructions to board

i breathe into the cloth that

“protects” from sickness.

i watch as my glasses

fog up, a thick film that further

blinds my vision until

i hear the call.

i stand with the other travelers,

we are corralled into lines

six feet apart – surrounded 

by so many, but still so alone.

i sit still and silent.

never speaking a single word.

i stare out the window

and i hear the engines turn.

the rumble grows louder and louder

and i feel my tears begin to fall

i wonder what would happen

if the plane never lifted off…

i push the thoughts down

and imagine i am home

because in the arms of those who love me

i am lonely, but not alone.

• anxiety
• cofc
• Coronavirus
• current events
• going home
• poem
• poetry
• travel