Strange and Familiar Times

It’s April 1, marking the beginning of National Poetry Month.  I always try to participate in National Poetry Writing Month and write a poem a day.  You’d think this year it’d be easy, with COVID-19 restricting us to our homes.  However, rather than a break, I find myself essentially doing at least two full-time jobs–my own actual job teaching (all moved online now), and then essentially homeschooling my children.  And somehow keeping the house from falling down.

Yesterday, on the eve of NaPoWriMo, I thought to myself, is there poetry to be found here?

Maybe, maybe not.  I’m willing to find out.




There are some things you can let go of.

This is what aloneness teaches us:

the value of your grasp,

what it chooses.  What falls away.

Windows, and how sometimes

they become mirrors.  Photos.

There are people outside here,

their hands on their windows

and their faces gentle,

bittersweet decisions.


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