DAYS, WEEKS, MONTHS, YEAR
Individual days, weeks, months: unbound!
Flung up into the air, released from meaning.
Who cares for you? Alice says to the deck of cards
in Wonderland. The cards rise up into the air
and come flying down upon her.
Her scream of fright and anger wakes her
and Wonderland recedes to dream,
and so will we wake by-and-by,
and order will be restored to the calendar.
Coronavirus will retreat
Like Alice, we will awaken
and emerge changed,
never the same. Gigantic
one moment, mouse-sized the next.
We will have learned how to move
through other divisions of time.
Chessboard squares shifted to 3-D
and back to an ordinary set of days.
And we’ll be safe as houses,
safe as a church, home safe,
safe and sound,
out of the woods,
right as rain.
Deirdre Kessler selects a poem a month by an Island poet for The Buzz.