by K. F. Pearson
Hold, thoughtfully, hand, when a last occasion allows, the other’s hand, now suffering diminished powers, as it limply rests itself in yours. Its ancient veins, respond, if feebly, to touch like infant children’s, with a tiny stroke itself enough to convey each other to each. Occasions of warmth humans encounter, extensive or brief, like a rainforest leaf to the tree till it falls into mulch, are, if in passing, signs of wealth. A last hold of hand contains a universe of nerves in flesh and mind, so connection when it goes, leaves with percussion of rainforest leaves. Covid 19’s distance cancels all farewells as close so a final once on Skype or Zoom quits it for us each alone.
K. F. Pearson has published six collections of poetry including two featuring his existentially dubious hero The Apparition, namely The Apparition’s Daybook and The Apparition At Large, which give first person accounts of his dilemma. He is working on a new collection The Complete Apparition, in which he is perceived by others.