Invisible Thief

By Abigail Marshall

         after Kelli Russell Agodon, Love Waltz with Fireworks


A few months ago, I was sitting in a cafe

with my friend, enjoying a latte and

talking about what the future would hold


I was volunteering at bustling soup suppers,

serving smiling gray-haired patrons

and laughing with people I love


I was wrapping my arms around my friend in

a reckless embrace, never worried that

something so simple could be taken away.


Making pancakes in the afternoon, study sessions

in a quiet cafe, walks around the mall.

Morning coffee meetups and lunch dates.


Don’t take this for granted, I want to whisper

into the ear of my old self, who could never

see what was coming.


Not just to her, but to everyone. A new couple,

holding hands as they walk, a grandchild, wrapping

his little arms around his grandmother’s waist.


A comic bookstore owner, greeting customers and chatting

about the latest issue. The woman browsing the aisles

at the bookstore, looking for a new cookbook to try.


The colorful, emotional, vibrant world that I was lucky

enough to experience, stolen away by

an invisible thief. A thief who steals life.


A thief who locked everyone inside their homes.

Hid their faces behind stifling facemasks.

Stole their freedom and their livelihood.

I long for the day when that thief is apprehended,

when doors can open again, when we have a

newfound appreciation for all that we lost.


A day that keeps running farther away,

a day that we may never catch.




This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *