For today’s prompt, write a distance poem. As a runner, I automatically think of running when I think distance. But hey, there’s long distance relationships. Or why not get beyond geographic distance and consider distance in terms of time or emotional distance. Or some other interpretation.
Distance
When I step outside
out from under the branches
of my ailing elm tree
the top of my hair
my last light little blonde hair is that last thing
(drifting cloud notwithstanding) - the very last thing
until perhaps a glance off the edge of the surface of a methane sea of Titan
or a veil of a nebula, pink
Is that how far away our dead are? Further?
Is there a distance to them?
But can there be a distance not measured
in time or space
because this is the distance that matters to me
the vast void that I pass through
from my desk to my coffee pot
- immeasurable -(in terms not of time or space)
in which the persons I love
are not.
(maybe are not)
How far away are they?
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