awake at six and thirty
smiled through my mask
then stopped
just making sure my voice rang clearer
when i said
good morning
to the deli counter worker
good morning like cops and robbers
on pause while
checking out groceries

a switch from the rose bush
or the weeping willow
forgotten by both the asker and
receiver
forgotten
in the storms of locusts

schizophrenia reading
a warm husband in bed
daughters up late watching Ghibli movies
is idyllic
without the pandemic as their frame

there my face in the mirror
simple reflection whose eyes i meet
take stock of any changes
and welcome them
i wash my face
pat it dry
no big show
no cracks or wounds
just a simple mirror
holding a simple smile

dog curled over my knees
as i lay in bed
shadows of the bird hang on me
a little thing bright
brought in by the cat
dim and dull in death

winds took the nest down
cats found what fell

zoom call with my family
i didn’t bring it up
we all had a good time

i didn’t bring it up

we’ve switched over to the summer comforter
it was cold when everything happened
but now the heat presses in upon us
a certainty of Summer
we welcome in these strange times

wind ravaged a tree, sent a hatchling to his death new life we watched from the window now an upturned nest
vacant of mother’s pressing presence

what cause have we to cry
of simple things lost
while all around us chaos
caresses the masses

i hold to the robes of the Shepherd
my path uprooted before me
i follow the steps of the Savior
who said Peace be to the storm and be still

peace was first
upon closing the door
torments fell broken-stringed
i swept them up
sharp, nasty bits
and hung paper cranes in streamers
until my whole ceiling
was an Escher
the hidden element being
peace

he tries to control the flow of conversation
by taking too long to reply
she’s learned this never ends well
and is born of pride rather than wisdom
he thinks he’s feeding her
keeping her like a pet
on his words alone
she hugs him
and alone asks the wind
what ever happened to that man
he knocks at the door
she invites him in
but he never enters
just motions for her to come follow him
she closes the door
what ever happened to that man

on this shoreline
i walk the bones of the sea
shells cracked so small
the ridge of a fingerprint
will hold them
on this shoreline
i gut fish
and do not fear my toes in the water
i catch the shapes that tickle past

on this shoreline
i part from you
my mourning done
and let you go to the bones of the sea