baltimoreblackwoman

May 3, 2020
4:42pm

I.

Now that the cold and darkness
of Winter is finally past,
I‘m opening blinds and windows,

Letting light and fresh air in
to block the fear
and uncertainty
that Covid-19 has cast.

No more daily briefings—
though the deaths continue
to mount—

Today my heart is singing, beating
for the living who
also count:

the ones who fought
and survived

like me, though there will
always be doubt
because my case was
never reported.

Still, I wear a mask
and gloves on my
rare outings
to stores for food
and medicines,
keeping 6-foot
distance and
sidling away
from anyone
I encounter.

II.

Now I wake up
earlier,

in the morning,
not at 2pm,

even if sleep did not
overcome me
until 2am
or later.

I am once more
decluttering
one space,
one room
at a time,

publicly sharing
each phase
of each intention
of the work:

A bookcase
being emptied
of knick-knacks
and toys
collected by
the child within me.

Books read
that define
the adult
I project
to the world

now lie in heaps
in every nook and cranny
I can find—
organized and labeled
by subject,

until the grand restoration,
when my new identity
is revealed.

III.

At eventide
I eat supper,
watch the news,
absorbing the latest

statistics,
heartbreaks,
heroes,
research.

Then search
for anything other,
to forget—

nature documentaries,
old comedies,
detective shows,
sci-fi…

ending the night
with perpetual rounds
of Solitaire,
block puzzles,
virtual conversations
on Facebook…

Until my fevered brain
surrenders

to sleep.