Soulless Solace

During yesterday's moment-of-silence
I wasn't being overly reflective
or appreciative of the moment.

Nor did I think back
on the past two weeks;
the unseasonable heat, the flood,
the collapse of the midtown bridge.

I didn't meditate on the loss of numerous
church members, your husband included,
who perished in the rush of water, venturing
from their homes against sound advice
to try and lift those drowning from the river
onto the midtown bridge.

I didn't have my usual talk with God,
the one where I acknowledge His vow
of silence and sarcastically scorn
His hands-off approach, while actually
fearing that He was listening and,
worse yet, playing along with the joke.

Instead, I looked around the circle
of people holding hands and watched
the candlelight play across your face
and wondered how soon I'd have to
wait to ask you to dinner

or just show up at your house, timing
my arrival perfectly with the intersection
of your vulnerability and hopelessness.
An eye of the storm doorbell ring.