What’s it like for them
Looking back down,

Watching us laugh
While we gather –

Leaving once more
Feeling lonely,

Just awaiting that time
To return?

These occasions grew cold
With our age,

As the world itself
Became sicker
And masks hid frowns
Always missing
Before each face
Posed a threat.

Now feasts
Must celebrate fear,

Lingering still
After healing,

Kept far too long
Behind latches
Where thoughts
Were safest reprieves –

When staring back out
Among cars,

Passing through streets
Fallen silent,

During seasons lost
Touching windows
Letting glass tell tales
Seeing lights

Share familiar warmth
From afar

But strung across roofs
Trading signals

How life moved on
Despite illness
Once killing those souls
Caught inside.

My hope
Believes heaven’s remorse
Is festive cheer
Raining softly,

Washing that hurt
Wishing snowflakes
Prove relatives dead
Remain close –

Shedding God’s good grace
Off of clouds

Beyond all doubt
Between teardrops

Inspiring faith
Burning brightly
Alongside trees
Seeming dim.

Happiness means
Going home,

Even staying put
Merely knowing

Love’s holiday
Never abandons

Since together endures
High above.

• J. Pigno