July 22, 2020

Jul 22, 2020


Melanie Kyer


Hiking an unfamiliar path,

I stare at the parched ground and realize:

I am thirsty, too.

So thirsty.


I am thirsty for a hug from a friend,

Thirsty for a room of voices raised in song,

Thirsty for a high five from a kid who’s scored a goal.

Thirsty for the chatter in a neighborhood café.


It is a thirst more than the thirst for water.


I see friends across a parking lot,

I leave a gift on someone’s front door steps.

I wave through a computer screen,

I open a handwritten note from the mail.


These interactions feed my soul and thirst, 

but only– only — just

touch the surface, like sucking on ice chips

when you really want a tall cold drink.


And yet I know what happens when rain falls

Too quickly over dry parched ground,

The flood does much more harm than good

To wash away the life it came to save.

So I will wait for now

And quench my thirst 

in tiny,