The dog sleeps on the shower floor,
“everyone” in isolation.
We have new heroes, the nearly ignored
who pack our chips and vegetables
into trunks, talking heads on the news
live from their basements,
shop cashiers, ER nurses and Docs,
the UPS guy in his brown suit.
The sky is empty of planes. There’s a run
on cookies and fertilizer, yet a bumper
crop of parsley this year and fields of tulips
nobody wants. We edge the garden
with stones, clean our closets, power walk,
slow our clocks, stay clear of the door,
disregard knocks. I haven’t spent
this much time watching the afternoon
breeze like fingers through a lover’s hair,
glued to reflections on water
and window panes. Notice how wisteria
twists like tangled string and gleams.
We rediscover banana bread,
the fusty scent of old books. I am terrified
and free, sitting in the sun, my face
blocked by an oak and a maple, the dog
immersed in bird songs. We’re on the porch
every night having a look at the end of days.
Cynthia Good, an award-winning author and journalist and 2019 graduate of NYU’s MFA poetry program, has written six books including Vaccinating Your Child, which received the Author of the Year award from the Georgia Writers Association. She launched two magazines, Atlanta Woman and the nationally distributed PINK for women in business.