A betrayal

And Elohim created Adam, by William Blake

. . . but the year’s been a long one

with so much disease raging

and my six year old needing 

everything that six year olds need

that my heart and mind have not been strong enough.

I have not been allowed to see my dad

since last winter

and now it’s winter again

and suddenly, this week, they said I could come.

Goggles, rubber gloves, and surgical mask. 

He didn’t recognize me at the door

even after I took off the PPE.

My hair has gray waves 

and is down to my shoulders.

My beard thick with sadness.

I didn’t recognize him either.

A living skeleton. 

I was amazed that he was able to stand and walk.

I think we were both in shock.

I don't think he fully understands the pandemic.

I don't think he understood 

why I wasn't able to come to him for so long.

My heart breaks at what he must have thought.

We sat so quietly through the weekend

as the snow drifted down from dark skies.

A more gentle and kind skeleton 

you will never know.

When we said goodbye he said your visit 

was like a yellow ray of sunshine. 

I know this poem is rough

and I’m not sure why I feel so deeply

that I need to put it out into the world now

but I have not felt poetry in my heart and hands

for so long and after driving 

across the dark prairie

with gray snow and bitter winds

home to my small home

with the half buried halloween skeleton 

illuminated in the frozen garden plot

and all the loneliness

falling from everywhere

I had to write.

And now, it’s like I never left you. 

.