Sonnet 17

I’ve had to put some friendships to a test,

avoided contact, see how long I last,

and wondered, mute, along with every text

received, if they were reaching through the glass

screen in my palm. The hours turn to whiles;

soon my thigh is jaded where the phone

on vibrate burned my nerves past sense. The child,

still in line, not picked for teams, alone,

forgets that dodgeball was a sport he went

outside to play. I’m used to this: the short

disruptions, floods then droughts, the flows that ebb

away. But you, you were my sole support,

the stilts that kept my house from highest tides.

I saw you off and watch the water rise.

 

 

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