Category: covid
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Quatrains say goodbye to 2020
stand among wet trees coffee cup on fence rail muddy pond reflects bare trees, green hill, white overcast sky across the pond there is a path from the west it forks but from the east its branches become one path my cup is empty I will walk home from east to west alone in the…
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a dilatory poet
COVID inactivity feeds me morsels of delay walk in the park enjoy another coffee break recycle cardboard sweep the porch rake leaves in mounds the city will haul away add fallen sticks to tinder pile dead branch above my head sword of Damocles hangs upon a horse hair thread 12-18-20
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Rainy day
Rain in yard, coffee on porch, Friend on phone Says hello, how are you? We talk of family, of health, Of vaccines, Grandiose post-COVID plans Last leaves launch in air In seven days Write fears on paper Consign in Solstice fire Happy Hanukkah Merry Christmas, and Kwanza, too 12-14-20
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Pandemic coffee in a blue cup
A mute yellow sign stands near the street in a neighbor’s yard signaling SLOW in black letters. You sip coffee from a blue cup as friends drive by and wave on their way to work, the grocery or anywhere, but here. The old couple with a corgi, call good morning from the park. With only…
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Gray hat
Dear Mom, today is cold. I stand in the chill where the sun breaks through trees to sip coffee. Most mornings, I throw a handful of keto granola for a brave mockingbird that busily gathers it up next to me. It reminds me of you and how you always bustled about your kitchen. A brown…
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rain check
Thanksgiving Day rain, lone bird sings in woods Siren calls in distance Watch out! We’re coming through! Everyone is staying home Empty seats in the living room Be safe, be healthy, be happy Thanksgiving Day rain drips from trees COVID canceled traditions Family gatherings on Zoom Family recipes homogenized and fortified 19th century dashes and…
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Roots
You rise You stretch You exercise You sip coffee in the park You talk with dog walkers You dig roots in your yard You talk with a sister about health and family You set down the shovel You sit on the porch and rest, because roots exhaust you 11-23-20
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untitled
Some leaves’ glide path is smooth gondolas floating in air. Some swing back and forth like cradles. Some spin dizzy. Some resist, rise up on thermals. Some go heavy to ground. All I know is that I’m falling. 11-15-20
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Dog day Saturday
man with blind dog walks slow enjoys last times together blonde nurse walks black dog every morning her husband walks at noon two doors down lonely dog barks in back yard brown dog at corner fence complains to anything that moves Boston terrier and pit bull mix pull their human along as he talks on…
My husband's poetry 