Little More Than Words
I may write of the trials imposed by a pandemic
with words that speak of separation and isolation,
the trial of being removed from fellow man,
but there is no disparity for me these days.
My one connection here was carefully chosen.
Since moving to the mid-west, I have not
been a social animal, except through the convenience
of technology, this digital medium connecting
me to others with common interests, remotely.
Do I find safety in a distance I have known all along?
Separation from family is my one trial, a choice I made
when I made this move. There are no others,
and little else, to trouble me by separation.
I am held up by the love that brought me here.
And so, I read, and I write, sometimes about the distance
imposed by an invisible force that keeps people apart.
It may be hard to believe, but love already does that.
Anything else is little more than words.
Today is Day 25 of National/Global Poetry Writing Month. I took one look at the prompt at napowrimo.net and knew there was no way I would even (want) to try meeting it. For one thing, the prompt actually came from a poetry workshop, and it has more in bullet points than my typical poem has in words. Secondly, it’s based on a poem that reads like a book. It includes a reading that takes 34 minutes. Again, that’s more minutes than my typical poem has in words. In addition, it was clear that any response would likely be a narrative, and as I said recently, I’m usually not one for writing narrative poems. (Guess what? I ended up writing one, anyway.)
Instead of following the prompt, I’ve done further edits to a prose poem I’ve been working on for the past two weeks, the current draft being a conversion to stanzas. This is that draft.