Lonely

A modern-day tablet was in Ms. Lonely’s hands

—an extension of the drums in her ears

and the cornea in her eyes.

Her hair thinned with each virtual page turned,

the color of her scalp and cheek were one the same.

With a light blue dress shirt and starburst red pants

she was boisterous,

yet curiously shy,

shifting a seat closer to the windows out of sight, still in mind.