It’s About Time
Day 28: Gardening, my senses seem primal and keen.
I hear the flapping of bird wings and smell roses
from fifty feet away. Wait! Did that ant just wave at me?
They call them “Santa Ana” but I prefer to spend
my precious time twirling aloft a spring zephyr, munching
snap peas and strawberries from my sunny front yard harvest.
I write poetry, take neighborhood walks in the sunshine, play
with my kitties, and cook Mexican chili and cornbread.
Catching up on my Greek homework. It’s about time.
A pocket full of loose time jangling next to my keys, itching to be spent,
so I drop a few coins into the jukebox and dance the night away.
With overanxious dancing legs, I vine, shake and twirl
myself around with my online dance partner, Ira Weisberd.
Eye shadow, mascara, eye liner, makeup and blush on
the top half, mask on the bottom, forever young.
Xanax and short naps have kept full blown cabin fever
at bay, but I’m not sure how much longer it can last.
Wondering when this will end and hoping it ends well, but knowing
that history says we are doomed to repeat our mistakes every time.
Zooming as I punch and scream, karate lessons in virtual space.
Original prompt: How we are spending our time during the pandemic.
by Natalie Champion, Rick Champion, Gudelia Vaden, Nan Friedley, Juanita Mantz, Raine Lefaivre-Naggi, Burcu Misirli Chatham, Julianna Cruz, Cindi Neisinger, Debby Johnson, Cati Porter
Inlandia: A Literary Journey 