It's not a good sign when you're
mesmerized by the Westminster dog show.
Got to get out of this place.
Yes, even a well-planned foray
to Safeway will suffice.
I know I shouldn't go, but I can't relinquish
this last vestige of my old life.
Grocery list clutched in my gloved hand,
mask in place, fogging my glasses,
cart wiped down.
I try to keep myself from weeping.
We are all actors in a bad dream,
that doesn't go away in the morning.
Will we ever get back to before?
Oh, the little joys I took for granted,
like my grandsons sleeping over.
I'm frenetic, rushing through the aisles,
cowering behind my mask.
I don't look anyone in the eye.
I score a big win, paper towels.
But do I really need four more cans
of tomato bisque soup?
The masked man in red sweatpants
joyfully unloads big bottles
of Cuervo Gold and Clorox on to the belt.
He makes me smile.
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This poem was featured on the San Francisco Chronicle's editorial page on April 21, 2020. It is one of the poems in my first poetry book, My Runaway Hourglass, joannejagoda.com. I created my book during the Shelter-In Place weeks when I realized life is short and what was I waiting for. I write poems that are understandable and relatable.
I, too, love poems that are understandable and relatable. And I love this one, even tho it hurts. This one's been in my mind since I read a friend's post this morning on Facebook:
They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.
-- Ernest Dowson
The first "this one" above refers to yours. ;)
"I don't look anyone in the eye."
Yes, quite painful ...
Enjoyed!
Will we ever get back to before? - Probably not, I suspect. *
*
I enjoyed the sweet, crisp realism!