It’s my honor to have a poem published in the St. Charles Arts Council’s project, Poetry in a Time of Pandemic. My poem, “Quarantine III,” was just published. May these poems bring comfort, insight, and hope to us all as we wait out this terrible virus.
“Quarantine III”
I cracked open a window, to be touched
by chilled arms: shrill April winds better
than nothing. Sister says she’s started
having nightmares about social distancing.
She wandered through a hall, body shaking,
shaking a fist at duos in sweaters carelessly
entwined in chaste hugs. Last night, I dreamt
of an anniversary party in a giant ballroom.
I asked at every festooned food table for
pretzel rods. I was that specific; they weren’t
just pretzels. The punch was Hawaiian red but
all I could scoop into my cup was pale pink,
square ice pellets that tasted of run-off and
blankness. Not even water could quench
as it vanished. I took more anyway.
