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a multimedia salon


covid dreams

Hilary DePolo


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

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