“Together Alone”
I tend my garden row by row.
You tend yours as well.
I peek the fence to see your growth,
I missed my step and fell.
The fence a boundless boundary,
an unlikely mix of stone.
A fancy noontime reverie,
caught drifting off alone.
Solace in activity,
disparate, but shared.
A bearable captivity,
when someone else is there.
Separate paths now cultivated,
could someday lead to home.
The point would be, they get created,
spending together alone.
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Published by Christopher Hickey
Welcome to my effort. Yes, as a great procrastinator, it requires great effort to stay focused on something productive that matters to me. I’ll find any old excuse to traipse from project to project, and I rarely end up at the place I started. I find this maddening, and exhaustive. So it is with high hopes, and a greater grasp of self-awareness, that I embark upon staying the course so to speak.
I enjoy writing. Be it blogs, fiction, poetry, etc. I love the craft and the act of creation, the art in and of itself, for it’s own sake and end. I am happy to be able to do it.
Some stats:
Born: March 1974
Education:
St.Francis de Sales, Charlestown MA
Don Bosco Technical High School, Boston MA
University of Massachusetts at Lowell, Lowell MA
Bunker Hill Community College, Charlestown MA
DePaul University, Chicago, IL
North Virginia Community College, Arlington VA
Harvard Extension School, Cambridge MA
Place of residence: Somewhere in the land of metro Boston. It’s vaguely familiar and becoming home more and more by the day, but when you come from “The Town” all else fails by comparison.
Favorite Color: I’m partial to all forms of blue.
Favorite Author: c’mon! don’t expect me to answer that, there are too many.
I enjoy memories of playing 80’s Atari better than playing any advanced gaming system that exists today.
Some day:
Hope to be recognized for my paper clip collection. As well as my 27 rejected applications to Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailiey Clown college.
View all posts by Christopher Hickey
Sewing the seeds of love
For some reason I read this backwards meaning I started with
Spending together alone
The point would be they got created
Could someday lead to home
From the ground up. It’s a lovely poem top to bottom or from its roots to the sky. Harvester
I love the concept of us all being physically together but feeling alone. Tech and Social Media Sorcery. But, alas hope. I’m realizing that the plight is truly relatable and universal. Thank you, kind sir.
I look back quickly that direction and see no one is speaking, just the usual zombies eating worms, drifting this way. That. Glowing faces from their connections never here in this scene just tuned into iPhone reality. We are alone desperately
Yes, but to the pleasures of food and sex and booze we do avail ourselves.