Antidote to Loneliness

If there is one

I haven’t found it yet. Or maybe

I’m not the right patient. I’ve quit

too many book clubs and team sports

along the way, preferring

my nook with the small lamp,

my journal and a bowl of olives.

I remember the postcard you sent

from Sardinia, of the coast

and all its blue. There was a ledge

with two chairs and I thought,

how beautiful. The white of the building,

with the cerulean sea. And

a single bird, flying high,

a scribble in the sky.