Clicking on the Heart

Fifteen years on Facebook — my ropes
well worked and burnished — yet I
find myself clicking the heart
emoji all day long — it’s not
love welling up for every
cat post, yoga selfie, or
pumpkin pie, redolent with
clove and allspice, but in a
life of masking and quarantine,
the thumbs up seems wanting — even
its color is blue-cold — although
surveys teach, blue is everyone’s
favorite shade.

It’s Pandemic year three, new
strains pushing up like daffodils
in March, and the Reaper
ringing every door bell — sliding
through every unlocked window —
but I will click each heart
possible — telling the truth —
love isn’t exhaustible —
not a commodity that
can be devalued through stock
buy-backs — and though here in
year three I am withered like
a crushed paper bag — clicking
the heart emoji is a
contribution I can still make.

Gary D. Grossman

Medusa’s Kitchen 1–25–23