Mind tendrils reaching out
Never quite touching the ones I’ve loved
Words caught in throat
Thinking not to impose
Not to make known
Thoughts always seeking
Touching
Seeing
Still there?
Still living
Never cared for the holidays
Feeling hypocritical asking how you spent it
As if those minutes of minutia excuse the month or more of silence
Time stretches
Stories left untold
Wishing even the scritch of the pen would come
When sound catches throat
But even there
The hesitation grows
Wanting to say
I love you
Not that it matters
Stretching out just to say hi
But failing
Happy Thanksgiving?
No
Cast instead
Voice to the ether
That it be just as lost as I
Pelgris 