Thursday, October 21, 2021

The Hard Things

We sat around the table,
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.