Tagged: coronavirus

here comes month nineteen

in the age of the

in the age of the
pandemic, we worry our
worry stones until

they hum – a bumblebee too, too
still, a phone call that never comes
.
20210825:2206
y

coming home after

coming home after
four hundred and fifty-two
days, so much privilege –

love, love, love, love bubbling,
gratitude spilling over
.
20210612:2043
y

on day four hundred

on day four hundred
and forty-nine, inviting friends
to warm up our new

home – a luxury, and so much
gratitude that we’re still here
.
20210529:2207
y

in the middle of

after our second

after our second
dose, our anxieties put
out enough feelers

to confirm more than reject
side effects – still, we knock on wood
.
20210425:1317
y

we are one dose and

we will look back and

we will look back and
name these moments as golden
so much gratitude

amidst pain and suffering,
loss and never going back
.
20210406:1947
y

remembering and

remembering and
forgetting, remember to
forget, forgetting

to remember, remembering
forgotten, our pandemic fog
.
20210316:2027
y

one year later,

one year later,
whether or not we
can see the light
at the end of the
tunnel is a
question mark,
curved and curled,
shrunken like
muscles out
of practice –
and still, we
will see what
we want to see,
doling out hearsay,
not just convinced,
but justified
.
20210228:1646
y