Online

I am spooked,
adrenal system on overload.
The pandemic makes me pine
for visits with hugs
and heads leaned in
tilted towards interest.

I whisper my goodbyes
to memories without emotion,
cut-outs on screen
of a mother in pearls
and a father with a jacket and tie.
They don’t look each other in the eye.

I make peace with old tomorrows.
For how long was this day gonna come?
And here it is, here, dear brother
the joy, the bliss, the exultant exuberance
of connecting human to human
in the song of communication.

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