When I am home
in a quiet capsule
I can feel isolated,
quarantined.
Though I might have a door, a street,
a means of travel,
I can still feel small,
unseen, unknown.
How to know
that sitting can make a difference
with silence echoing,
a child’s laughter distant
intercepted by
a cold spring wind.
Yes, when I am home in
a quiet capsule
it helps to know
I am here observed,
accompanied and surrounded
by the unseen attending,
keeping me in
their intimate fold.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
September 2020
Living Tree Poetry 