The world is such a quiet place.
Not quite as quiet as April,
that was like life on the moon.
But the quietest late July
that is almost imaginable.
I had this thought inside the gym.
And I couldn’t be happier to be back inside a gym.
But it rather felt like somewhere
that has been rediscovered after a meteor strike.
No vibes, not much energy, certainly no sweaty high-fives.
Similar to newly spread out patios
and coffee shops where you feel like frogger
jumping on socially distanced standing markers.
I know that the birds and trees are still happy,
and hopefully those dolphins in Venice too.
But this quiet cloud of distance,
hovering longer than we expected,
is snuffing out our social tendencies.
Making seeing and talking to people
feel awkward and almost dangerous.
I’m ready to unspool from the cloister,
eat a pizza with strangers,
plan a trip further than I can drive,
accidentally bump someone’s elbow in the supermarket.
I guess that’ll all have to wait for a vaccine,
or so they say,
then we can get back to socializing
like any other ordinary and forgettable
Thursday in July.
Dad In The World 