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Walking out into a Pandemic

by Johanna May

When I go out
I ride this ungainly animal
fattened with homemade bread.
It has to have coffee,
the occasional pastry,
I am hungry only for poetry,
and my son’s smile,
the turn of a line
where it becomes an arch of an eye
on paper,
or a vector that found a twin.
More of these things,
and so
I whisper to this body:

“We might have a visitor,
give it a tour, do not fight
and brew mucus
for its tea.

It is older than the gods
we invented.”

05/24/2020

Posted on 05/24/2020
Copyright © 2020 Johanna May

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/24/20 at 03:43 PM

Quite appropriate for the time, Johanna. Good to read you again.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 05/24/20 at 11:08 PM

Totally unique pandemic approach. I always look forward to your mystical mind and succinct pieces.

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