Not Here.

Somewhere, there's a locker
brimming with a sea of things,
papers and binders someone tried to keep neat (but not very hard,
because it's not quite chaos, but it's not far from it, either.)
Somewhere a student
turns the lock swiftly, because then, that was how it always went.
Every day, three numbers, opening to the mess inside.
Not here.
Here, a locker sits empty and neglected,
its only inhabitants an extra graph-paper notebook and
the decorations on the door, because it was told the student
would be back.
Soon.
Only a few weeks. (Untrue.)

Somewhere, there's a calendar
bustling with black pen,
a concert here, a meeting there,
things to do and things to see,
because then, there were places to go and people to go there,
and no fear.
Not here.
Here, the calendar is occupied with Zooms for work,
Zooms for school,
Zooms for dance or meetings or, well,
anything, because now, Zoom is a word you'll hear
every day, without fail,
unless replaced by
FaceTime or Skype.

Somewhere, there's a student
climing onto a bus, sliding into a seat
without anyone else, because then,
they just didn't have anyone to sit with. The only reason.
Sometimes the bus is full, and that's normal, too. No problem.
Not here.
Here, a packed bus means panic,
a person sitting by themself is
safe, not lonely.
But, really, still alone. Still apart.
Distance is everywhere now.
Popping up at the store, on the street, at the park...
anywhere.

Somewhere, there's a life of normal, and normal is normal.
Where things are happening like they always have.
Sure, some things are different, but, well, not by much.
Things are still, well, normal.
Normal work.
Normal school.
Normal crowds and activities and...everything.
NOT HERE.
This is not a world of normal.
Or maybe it is.
But not the normal we're used to.
That normal still exists...
somewhere.
Not here.
Not here.

Not here.