All in Poetry
The Lyft driver called his wife twice. The first time,
she said their nephew had gone. Taken all his stuff
and gone. The driver coughed; when we asked,
he said smoker’s cough.
I spoke with Mother Nature yesterday
I asked her about those bleached reefs
I asked her about our felled forests
I asked her about her hurricane program
New Year’s Eve rain turned ice in the dark.
Morning comes; rising low, sun appears.
Smooth curves, elegant grain
where bark has peeled away,
to be sawn into perfect lengths.
I know what I intend for all of you.
In the midst of this Corona crisis
I sip a cup of tea.
Free as I can be
I sip a cup of tea.
Trapped I am in
this six by seven cell,
a living hell for some.
My summer pieces are stored away
So I’m down to this turtleneck with rolled-up sleeves
Pale sunlight lounging along houses all day
Gives me hope of stretching it in both directions
Like saltwater taffy
Banditry – face-mask bandanas at the Co-op
Money laundering – washing dresser-top coins, with lots of suds
Shooting up in the parking lot – drive to the doctor’s office, phone, and wait.
The nurse injects you in your car.
On the eleventh, I was sent home from work.
Now it’s been ten days of distance,
Zoom conferences, no rubbing shoulders
with colleagues and friends.
This is an internal dialogue. It goes like this: Why do you want to stay safe? What a stupid and insulting question!
Google Maps won’t tell you to make that first right at the Presbyterian church
Then go two stops past the nail salon, not that nail salon
Oh, it’s a vaping place now. Quick turn here. Pardon
We try to wield our way home. Wend and yield a lane less alone. At the end of one telling I came across another’s labyrinth, detached like a discarded chrysalis — and was finally able to wander.
Now I understand
this is not a time
that we have seen before and
this is a time we may never see again
and what is unfolding
passeth my (current) understandment
Sometimes in life we are asked to stay Right where
we are, around loved ones and friends. This time of
pause allows for reflection and may, Unite the
United, until it ends.
Peanut butter brickle
Two scoops for the man
with the sunburned cheeks
and the spare tire
waiting to blow
