Message re: A World Gone Missing

If I covered a universe of milk cartons 
with pictures of the missing,
there would still be enough
to wallpaper the galaxy and beyond, 
and not much hope that anyone
could spot them and send them back
unharmed.


It’s hard to picture faces:
I miss cashiers' smiles at the grocery,
and surprise neighbor meetings in the aisles.
Casual hugs when passing on the street
are gone, now, along with handshakes.
Six-foot distance limits
the impromptu.


No Sunday brunches, or
holiday dinners, no
‘stop by and see us’ 
or ‘we were in the neighborhood’.
No cocktail parties, deadly or otherwise:
What’s in is
lonely.


Fundraisers are out—
except for the virtual.
And what’s a movie without friends
to share your popcorn,
or a play without discussion?
No need to dress up; 
the style today?
Pajamas.


Take the picture for the milk carton.
Take a picture of me, alone,
and all my friends, themselves alone.
Take pictures of the world alone,
pictures of the lost
waiting and hoping, 
suspended in time,
Hoping to be found.