R..E. Slater - Alone

Alone

by R.E. Slater

My time is measured in loneliness

but not as others measure loneliness

for my friends are my readings

and ideas, errands and activities,

though the fellowship of friends hasn't

been a part of my experience most of

my simple life.

I suppose this to be a great lost...

though I wouldn't know not having

the companionship of those who

reach out, call, visit, or stay in contact.

It just is, and it is in the solitary

moments of the day I read, write,

do small researches, fix and build

as I can in the twilight of life that

once held child-like wonder

across the whole of my being.

This wonder has not diminished

but my love of experiencing it

has slowed down beheld mainly

in the thoughts and questions

of my small grandchildren

who are natural mini-me's

growing into their own as quickly

as they can. Hopefully finding in

their own paths a kind of fellowship

I never had... or once had... only to

watch it close up like a shutting door

difficult to open with the little

hands of a child reaching up, then

grasping lever, unable to push or

pull open, needing assist to enter

fair portal.

It's not enough then to walk alone,

though there are everyday people

mixing in and out of our lives; yet,

in truth, there be other ills of hurt

or harm, breakage or longing, which

measure relationships dearly held

then gone forever. It is there then in

the unspoken silences of weary day

wherein frail hearts may try, may not,

but may try again, bourne the hopes

of the forlorn who too easily are blown

like scattering leaves upon the wind

into, and out of, the lives of one and all

day upon day, eve upon eve, till night's

final fellowship.

R.E. Slater
November 6, 2024

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