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Enough.

May 22, 2020

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Enough.

May 22, 2020

 

My refrigerator is full,

my cupboards far from bare.

Is that enough?

 

I have sheets for my bed,

a pillow for my head.

Is that enough?

 

I have meaningful work to occupy my days,

a consistent income stream.

Surely, that is enough.

 

I have a partner, dog, writing pen;

car, family, and a plentitude of friends.

Isn’t that enough?

 

A neighbor has faces on a screen

but no one’s skin to touch.

 

A friend can pay her bills

but only for 11 months.

 

A student’s aunt has a ventilator

but her parents have healthy lungs.

 

A nurse has protective gear

but it must be worn more than once.

 

A couple shares a life of love

but one dies alone: isolated, untouched.

 

No matter what they say,

that is not enough.

 

I live in abundance;

I have so very much.

 

What is the heaviness in my chest

that make my shoulders slump?

 

Maybe ‘more’ was never the answer

to a gnawing hunger in the gut.

 

Maybe tragedy isn’t what washes my shore,

but what lands on all of us.

 

Enough, enough.

Enough.

 

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