through the glass

(a collaboration by, Terrynce McKeown & Stuart Platt)

i cried again today

it’s starting to be a daily occurrence

the forecast in my mind is stormy

74 degrees with a strong chance of unease

tomorrow we are looking at a high of anxiety

with a low chance of social interaction

bring an umbrella because it looks like rain

…

now I know what people in comics must feel like

only instead of an evil genius bent on world dominion

it’s nothing

it could be a word from a friend

a warm friendly hug

a firm handshake

a laugh from a toddler

it could be you

it could be me

…

this virus is not just infecting and killing

it’s bending our reality out of shape

pushing us deeper into our own isolation

tiny balls of light burning alone in the chasm of space

and in social distancing no one hears you scream

…

meanwhile those getting out every day are

risking their lives for minimum pay

bartenders going broke

restaurants close

as we all wait for word on the curve

…

Doctors and nurses are dying

sending their own children away crying

instead of hugs when we enter the door

we have to strip to our skin when our feet hit the floor

…

life doesn’t feel real anymore

when did home become a cage

an exhibit on Tralfamadore

where time and space are meaningless

…

when did we lose joy

where did we misplace peace

media didn’t properly prepare us for it

King, Koontz, and Kirkman had it wrong

Lovecraft was the closest

never go outside

fear the unknown

invisible

cyclopian

terror

…

but

…

when i look in my newborn daughter’s eyes

hear the laughter of my 4 year old

watch my eldest learn a new trick

feel the spring grass beneath my feet

breathe in the clear air

as i chase them all down a winding path

taste the food my wife has made

i stop

…

if only for a moment

and drink in the healing salve of time

time to play

time to learn

time to hold

time to cleanse

time to invest

time to rebuild

…

time

…

time that will never come again

i remember that one day I will look back

on this time together

dimly through the lens of memory

and wish for more time

like this

…