Comfort

[Back when it looked like Read, Write, Poem was going away, Writerwoman at Poets Who Blog offered a prompt, as a way to keep our hand in while things sorted themselves out. Her One Week Only Poetry prompt was "comfort." Head over there and look at the January 10, 2008 posts for others who took up this challenge.]


Comfort

You don't need comfort when you are numb,
as you focus on airplane reservations
and arranging time off from work.

You don't need comfort to do laundry
so you can pack comfortable clothes to hide in
and nice clothes to be seen in.

You don't need comfort while navigating
the labyrinth of travel
to the airport,
through the airport,
through another airport,
and another.

You don't want comfort while arguing
with the unfortunate people who tell you
your checked bag will be on the next plane.

You may want comfort while sorting through
the strange food that strangers try to feed you,
until you find a giant bowl of raw vegetables
that one brilliant, blessed person sent,
and the box of bagels and cream cheese from your co-workers.

Later
you want comfort
when reality
tries to seep into
your frozen mind,
slowly dripping
into the cracks
of the paralysis.

You love your family very much,
but nothing is comforting enough.