THE BABY BLUE BASSINET SPACE SHIP

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For awhile
Which is 
The dark
And 
Vast space
Wedged
somewhere
Between
I have no idea
And now,
Loneliness 
(Which is a word
That goes back as far
As the 14th Century
When apothecaries
Tried to cure it
With pestle and mortar
With no success
Which only made
Them lonelier
No doubt)
Has been 
The condition
That most 
Of the time feels
Like a violent
Demonstration,
Like the ones
That are being
Staged on the streets
Of China,
Which is
Dedicated to
Containing
Or preventing 
Any further
Outbreak
Of happiness.

While even the most
Skilled MRI technician
Can’t spot it
Trust me
Loneliness is there
Day
And 
Night,
Lying on the mantle of my gut
Like a snoozing
Tail-fanning cat
Who
When suddenly startled 
Can 
Turn
Self-destructively
Claws out 
Feral.

Foresakeness
Which is the new
Black
Plague
Suffered by 
Millions
Has been my
Since birth
Indissoluble
Siamese
Twin
Who doesn’t agree with 
Anything
I say
I want
I need.
And so
The only road
Open to me
Has been
The impasse
Most traveled.

Until Ethan came.

Ethan, my
Just recently
Arrived
Cherubic
Grandsonshine
Or as I call him
Dear Ethan Handsome
Made a pinpoint Libra
 landing 
Onto my
long abandoned
Inner sea of
Tranquility
Which is one
Giant leap
For a baby
But an even 
Bigger one
For his grandpa.

For the first time 
ever
I am
Astonishingly
Virtually pain 
And can look up 
And whisper
Goodnight Moon
From New York
To LA
Without 
Benefit of FaceTime.
And know 
With absolute
Assurance that
He can hear me.

You see,
What the clergy
And psaltery strumming
minstrels
Of the 1300s
Did not get
Is that the cure
Of loneliness
Is not other people
Or even imaginary friends.

It is the undeniable
Irrefutable
Presence of
Unconditional Love
For a newborn
Who I can feel
subcutaneously
Who I can
Sing songs to
And send
Wafts of air kisses
Even when 
The baby blue
Bassinet space ship
Is 238,900 miles away
And always
Always
Just within
My reach.

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