Disconnected

They circle around me, 

a dance of particulate matter - 

solid and comfortable,

an easy symphony of like-minded interaction.

I am like the gaps between raindrops,

I occupy the spaces-between - 

tolerated but not understood,

I am an unpopular electric eel in a bowl of goldfish.

I waft like a ghost along the sidelines - 

apart from the main game, a bereft observer.

This concert of which I am not a part - 

I am apart, and this concert is not mine, 

has never been mine.

Intrinsic connection is a rainbow across the seas, 

in thoughts and words-touch.

Marking time, some semblance of comfort

but not really my reality, still to be considered.

What would be our reality?
What would it be?

© Jennifer Phillips (All rights reserved)

Duck's neck © Jennifer Phillips