Who are you in my life, truly?
A figure who slipped in quietly and left like sand through fingers.
We were two phone screens
and a Pacific Ocean apart.
Until Mom texted me
on a regular Wednesday morning.
Now we are simply
Apart.
I confess,
I don’t think about you often.
Do people constantly ponder the blood coursing through their veins,
Or the air filling their lungs?
See?
That’s the point.
Do you remember when we last met?
During Covid,
your retirement home locked down,
"No visitation" and "No contact" signs in bold.
It was sunny day in the garden.
Do you remember a girl standing outside the metal fence,
waving?
The nurse wheeled you over,
sneaking past the security camera.
The girl touched your hand through the fence.
We both felt like animals trapped in different sides of the zoo.
Your mouth opened,
closed,
opened,
closed.
Not a name, not a sound,
Steel-cold silent.
Your skin, pale as white jade,
age spots like afternoon shadows,
eyes glazed over,
a black go piece unmoved.
Were you waiting for the game to end?
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