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.