A Poem: At Home

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


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