
covid dreams
Hilary DePolo
Poetry
Covid does not let me sleep soundly!
covid dreams
my struggle with these virus
days seems almost easy
the spectral possibilities
rumble through my nights
images heavy-footed with
the unknown challenge
authority of sleep I wander
the other side eager to
weave words into images
images into stories stories
into lessons lessons into
comfort but I cannot cast on
even one stich words stand
alone shoulders hunched
dare me to make poetry from a
world-wide pastiche of horror
I dream
my sister sits regal in a mansion
fireplace blazing her ventilator
wheezes in time with a string
band she is too ill to dance
the boy of her 16th summer
now a magician can perform no
trick to save her he giggles
I SEE YOU as he evaporates
I dream
my second mother steps fully
clothed into the tub she drivels
the book of Job as she disrobes
cascades of sawdust wash over her
images evaporate in a smoky
dawn that I cannot wake to
stumble through haze for hours
plod the hours until I return
to the story board of our lives
when I do they have blended
into a river of souls its current
rushes to a new world order
should I continue the struggle
or accept that I witness final days
earth’s last shudder as it rids
itself of a fatal pestilence
is reborn
©hdpoet – ‘20