Just for a Moment by Jeri Thompson

Waiting to be released from the ward,
I play ping pong with Wesley.
We are laughing, I keep missing the ball.
I’m surprised at his patience with me.

A social worker calls him away,
when he returns he’s pale.
I see him slide down against
the wall, arms wrap around drawn-up knees.
His head down, his shirt over his head.
His bipolar features paranoia and he is already
in mental lockdown.

I go to him when my ride arrives,
bend a bit, place my hand on his shoulder,
and quietly tell him, “My ride’s here.
I’m going to miss you.
I feel like we were friends in another life.”
I start to drop my hand down his arm
before the inches between us
grow into feet. As I get to his forearm,
he grabs mine and holds on tight,
just for a moment, just enough for goodbye.

(Previously published in The Beautiful Space) 

About the Poet:

Jeri Thompson lives and writes in Long Beach, Ca and has her degree from CSULB. She is in numerous publications, including; Chiron Review, The Fox Poetry Box, Carnival Lit Magazine, Silver Birch Press (Silver, Green, and Summer editions), Red Light Lit, and most recently Anti Heroin Chic.