Turning Toward

I reach out to touch their hands,
my beloved grandchildren
I cannot reach their palms
or feel their touches now—

I am so near at times,
yet far away
we walk together
mindful not to

six feet away—the rule,
you are too close.
we want you to stay well.

days, now weeks
of distancing,
no touching

sometimes my mind
says, “do as you please,
you are 80,
no one can tell you
what to do,"

then I remember
what has taken
all these years to learn,
it’s not about me,
nothing is or ever was

now in the spaces
between us
moon lilies sprout
from the swamp of silence
with unexpected beauty.


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