By Marjorie Moorhead
PROMPT—During Covid-19 ...
Goodbye 2020. I’ve eaten my fill
of snickerdoodles, gingerbread,
chocolate chip cookies, yeast bread ladened
with dates, butter, brown sugar. Sweetness
and goo enough to bring me down
the last lap; the exhausting
strangely disconnected limbo
of end-of-the-year.
This particular year had a harsh coating
of pandemic gloating in our faces like shiny egg wash,
painted on with threat of death; wreaking
of sorrow and loss, tragedy and cruelty. Separation.
Thankful for the birds-a-plenty, green pine, storybook snow,
warmth and food enough. Being able to behold young love,
and muddle through old. To see the bright moon dazzling
in night’s sky. Enjoy our elders being amongst us.
I snap these pictures, in my mind; the lovely moments.
Shoring up, storing them in heart and memory,
stacked like sand bags against storm waters rising;
a hope for resiliency.
Marjorie Moorhead writes from northern New England, having found poetry as a language to speak about survival, environment, and how we treat one another.