Holding my Own Hand

When you're alone, you have no other hand to hold.

HOLDING MY OWN HAND
June 6, 2009

The seats beside me are
empty.
My elbows covet the
arm rests.
The box of popcorn is filled
with my own greed.
No one to share it with.
The road before me is
virtually empty.
No one to help kick
the stones off the path,
to gasp at the sunrise
lighting the lean spines
of the wild deer.
Alone on the highway of life
breathing, listening,
holding my
own hand.