An unwelcome milestone crossed by a weary nation
“mask up”
“six feet apart”
“wash your hands”
Markers all of public fear fatigue
For some, like the boy who cried “wolf”
disregarded
inconvenient
an assualt on freedom
Not so for those who know an empty place
How does one return to “normal’ when normal left?
missing voice
missing face
missing presence
Slipped away, isolated, no visitors allowed
Repeated across the land, the absence felt
our curve is flat
our goodbyes muted
when we reassemble it will be with missing parts
A quotidian grief
Numbers mount
you speak of the herd
we see the one
now disappeared but never gone
Don’t pretend
Grief denied will resurface
Thanks – so poignant and beautiful – and so real!
Donna