Virtual of course,
All business, as usual,
Which is to say, personal.
I dropped, with
The utmost tact
One salient fact
Out of far too many.
Six months ago
There would have been a war
Over so much less,
As little as this crack of light bore.
But now there was a rough calm,
At what they couldn't bear to hear,
What they never hear, but know,
Somehow, from the air.
It was almost like tears,
The urge against self-pity,
In those faces
Of stony professionals,
A sadness that couldn't be
Swept from the room,
A silence, at last,
A silence.
