Ian Tramm, YinD 131

for months all i’d seen were bright lights

foreign colors rich and vibrant

exciting in their novelty and

future promise,

woefully all it takes is the volant

gust of a hurriedly worded email to dim

the glimmering candlelit lull of

rested assurance,

with clarity’s glow dulled

i don’t know where to go

i only know i feel i’m falling into

an abyssal and unknown below

a cough-sneeze-greeting meeting me as

i retreat seemingly deeper into quarantine

my return to the land of the free

less freely chosen than mandated

my land of smiles fast faded and left behind

as i quick pack clothes and medical supplies

go to say my last goodbyes

eyes wet with tears i’m crying

i can’t stop

this is my land of frowning

wait

hold on

slow down

i’m drowning

i’m not supposed to be there

i’m scared

let go of me

i’m not ready

what’s happening

please

stop.             i need to hug them.

we were meant to have more time.

Read Ian’s previous articles and contributions.