By Michael Morrow
Having to distance ourselves from others in so many ways affected me powerfully and got me thinking about other ways that we communicate.
Heads no longer bent in
sub rosa conversations.
No loving snuggles or avuncular hugs.
No kisses, even the air variety.
We move about,
magnets of like poles,
repelling as we approach,
voices louder to span the gulf,
eyes betokening fearful desire.
Unable to touch,
our words embrace.
Covid made me realize how important touch was in communication.
Speech made manifest,
illumining heart and mind.
Whether the gentle touch of a parent that
promises safe harbor,
the first soft touch of a beloved
that stirs inner warmth or
a friend’s consoling touch that brings a tear,
the laying on of hands
is the supreme communication
that screams…whispers… “I am here!”
This poem was written to address the different new ways that we have been forced to live and act.
Like a partially filled balloon
crushed in a fist,
The soul searches for balance as,
in countless small ways,
we forsake must and embrace can.
Sometimes, when the body is bound,
the mind is set free.
Originally from Indiana, Michael Morrow has been living in North Carolina for 28
years. Currently a member of a poetry group based in Pittsboro, Michael has been writing poetry off and on his whole life and enjoys sharing.