Did you die?
I haven’t heard anything,
but then again, how would I?
I stopped checking the obituary pages
years ago, after my cousin passed,
and I don’t watch the local news,
so perhaps it was announced
by the primetime broadcasters
and I missed it.
You’re probably just busy at work.
By the way, what do you do?
I didn’t get to ask that question yet.
We were talking sea turtles in Texas
when you disappeared
into another Zoom meeting.
It was a Wednesday morning, and I
should have know better
than to say hello so early
in the day, I should have waited
until the evening.
Are you still in that meeting?
I know it’s been a few weeks now,
but maybe your job is demanding.
Perhaps you’re on vacation.
To where, during a global pandemic,
would you even go?
And didn’t you say,
not too long ago, If I recall correctly,
and surely I do, for I cling to
everything you tell me,
that you’ve been taking
the COVID precautions seriously?
Still, though, you could be camping
somewhere with your phone turned off
completely immersed into the woods.
Do people do that?
I know what I’ll do.
I’ll write a poem to capture your attention
and fill it with cat references
only you can detect, but to do so,
you will have to read each word carefully.
If I’m really creative, I’ll come up with
a way to mention the Glass Animals
so you see for sure it is
about you and feel compelled
to reach out.
I’ve already done that, and
the references were so obvious, and
you still didn’t respond!
Do you read my poems?