Who I am,
Where I am,
Entwined as one.
Where I am defining
Who I am.
Location, place,
Informed by time.
Time realized through age.
Age collecting fragments
Of time and place.
Who I am,
Where I am,
Entwined as one.
But disturbning time and place,
A disturbance infused with uncertainty,
Brings anxiety.
Relocation.
An uprooting from place.
Disturbed roots,
A feeling of loss.
Loss felt as loneliness.
Who I am,
Where I am,
Entwined as one.
New city, new job, new coworkers,
But no place to live.
No place to call home.
A house yet to be found.
Family anxious to join me.
Everything seems unreal, unsettled.
Lonely.
Who I am,
Where I am,
Entwined as one.
©2022 Thomas W. Cummins
*Aspects of loneliness
Archive for the ‘Family’ Category
Aspects of Loneliness, No. 5
September 26, 2022Aspects of Loneliness, No. 3
September 12, 2022Long before any awareness
Even before I was aware of me
There were others
Asking nothing in return
Love and approval
Unconditional, unearned,
Came my way
Support and encouragement
Ensued for years
Most often taken for granted
Then suddenly through death
It all went away
Parents’ absence – real, palpable
Makes life seem lonely
©2022 Thomas W. Cummins
Aspects of Loneliness, No. 2
August 20, 2022A lonely feeling I don’t really miss anyone in particular At least not at the level of awareness Maybe there doesn’t need to be a personification of loneliness There could just be a hole in my heart, One that no longer aches But has yet to begin to heal. A grieving that is ever-present A grieving for what? A long hoped-for relationship? Something from long ago that is unresolved? Out of reach, inaccessible, unidentifiable, Yet so real? There is one I will miss That will bring a deep loneliness A long marriage brings forth another presence One beyond and outside either one of us Yet in us together Sacrament Oneness ©2022 Thomas W. Cummins
Shoes On The Radiator
February 23, 2021I can still smell the snowmelt
After all these years
A childhood beckons, tugs
My memory opens and embraces
Soggy grass
Puddles in the street
Wet shoes
Stuffed with newspaper
Atop the radiator by the backdoor
The long uphill walk
July 28, 2019
Old lawn chairs at the lake
Circa 1946, after the war
Steel
Heavy, very heavy
Yet very comfortable
A reminder of my parents
Those chairs, their chairs
Brought to this cabin
For their 50s
Summer home
During the walk from the lakeshore
The long uphill walk
Midway from the lake to the cabin
Those chairs
A welcome respite
Sometimes I imagine
Mom and Dad
Sitting in those chairs
At night, overlooking the lake
Bathed in starlight
Their ashes are nearby
Estrangement
August 24, 2017Heartache
Emerges unsummoned
From the subconscious
Takes up residence
Down low
In the stomach
Until
Nothing else matters
A simple question,
“What’s wrong?”
Brings a flood of tears
Washing away
Much of the ache
Leaving behind
Deep sorrow
Confusion, longing
©2017 Thomas W. Cummins
In a dim light... 
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