All The Lonely People

By John I. Blair

Just in the past six months
Of the aged group I name as friends
Five have gone

, A loss of nearly one per month;
And five others have been left
Widower or widowed, all alone,

Dazed and stumbling
Into a world
We were not ready for.

We talk among ourselves,
Sharing sorrows, solacing,
Seeking company in lieu

Of sitting in the emptiness
We now inhabit,
Pregnant with absence.

We invent and reinvent
In many ways, joining, going,
Groping toward the new;

Knowing as we do these things
That nothing can replace
The missing face, voice, touch;

Determined nonetheless
That life goes on,
That our lives go on.

©2014 John I. Blair

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