Hiding in Plain Sight

By Joseph Hesch

Living life alone,

even in the midst of a crowd,

a family, a love affair,

is not so different as the life

of a hermit.

I can be as solitary in those circumstances

as any Essene on the lam

in the mountains of the Holy Land.

But instead of hiding and meditating

in a shrub-shrouded cave,

I stare at you from behind

this living amusement park,

a charade of light, noise and motion,

keeping your world entertained,

at bay, by abruptly changing direction

and emotional altitude.

It works, even sometimes sending you

away from the show the worse for the climb,

like a heretic-hunter worn from the search

for my spiritual fore-bear.

My head, this cave of seclusion,

is where I ineveitably

pull back when I can't push away,

crouching in its darkest cutting crevices,

cold, relying on its dim light

for illumination enough to contemplate

why I would want or need to stay

hungry and naked like this.

Even more, I wonder

why you keep trying

to pry me out of here

when you don't really want me

anyway.