Dangling~ By Jeanne Radigan

Here I sit, confined by my own four walls
With no protection
Staring at you through a glass screen,
More vulnerable than ever
As the virus and death rage on,
And incensed protesters march forward
Demanding justice
That may never come.

The world crumbles while we exchange
Our hollow words.
Can you sense how afraid I am of being afraid?
Does it transcend the glass?
It’s like I’m dangling from a cliff without a rope.
You say give it time, it will pass,
Too bad I have nothing but time
To sit with fear and worry
As I ponder this tortured world.

I long for the old days
In the safety of your intimate walls
Where mine were the biggest problems to consume me
As I craftily avoided your eyes,
And you could follow where they landed.
If I teetered near the cliff’s edge,
You were there, just close enough
To toss me that rope.


Author Bio:
Jeanne is a mother, wife and middle school teacher who loves writing, singing, playing music and spending time outdoors with friends and family.