Aghast at those not listening to science.
My bandanna covers my mouth and nose
But not my eyes that have seen no glory of late.
Still, in the grocery store eyeing the rainbow Swiss chard
I think of you and the songs you’d play
On your guitar that of course would gently weep
But you did not, and I did not, for I’d tell you
Hope’s the thing with feathers and we were its mighty birds.
But hope is no longer a strategy:
The end of ice, this coronavirus.
And though there are thirteen ways of looking at it
The blackbird flies into the light of a dark black night
And the songbirds keep singing like they know the score.
No more: Serve the earth, I dare you.
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before.
Marcia Camino holds an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of
Alaska, Fairbanks. She is author of Crayzee Aayzee: A Poetry Abecedarian; Oomee
Boomee, Space Yogi; and The Pink Lotus Yoga Professional and Yoga
Teacher Training Program Manual. She operates a yoga studio in Lakewood,
Ohio.
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