Joshua Keiter

Thinking of the souls 
who never even knew 
the pandemic before 

they left us here 
bereft and alone knowing 
in their post life 

all knowing kind of way 
the travails they might have 
had the insight 

to carry us through 
instead of a phone call 
we communicate with them 

by virtue of their lack 
of ears or any other 
signifying flesh construction 

where did they go 
where do they go before us 
who seem to stationary 

here even as the days 
unmasked begin to accumulate 
like getting accustomed 

to premonition of heaven 
all life extinguished except 
for us promenading through 

the woods littered with pollen 
finding pavement instead 
of fertile ground 

it is enough to know 
we knew them in their 
recent absence unaware 

how much we miss them 
days culminating in lack 
of loss so profound 

we don’t know what to do 
with ourselves

On today’s walk we thought about 
where we were a year ago 
how little we knew and how much 
we thought we knew what we were dealing with 

those were the days when 
Lysol wipes would save us all 
when masks were in such short supply 
they might as well have been made of toilet paper 

now as the sane becomes vaccinated 
we plan on seeing our friends 
knowing they went through much of the same
this entire year the signposts so familiar 

so much in the rear view mirror before us 
so much nonsense still to contend with 
a year from now where will we be 
no closer to herd immunity

Today we drove through 
where the other half 
of one percent lives 

mansions too big for 
just one family to live 
so the help lives on site 

we imagined the modest 
houses might have seemed 
ostentatious forty years ago 

now dwarfed by multitiered 
turrets with garages
to store spare garages 

we found a space to park 
in front of a mailbox 
behind a horse trailer 

to walk to the river 
where some war type things 
happened ago in the past 

nearly encountering a field 
where golf insurrections 
beside sewage treatment

last night I dreamed 
the cat caught a bird 
and took her time eating it 

stretching the wings 
until you could see 
the sinews in the cartilage 

the cat continued playing 
with the bird but I could feel 
the heart beating beneath 

the muscle a future corpse 
hanging on for dear life 
while the hunter had its way 

with the helpless prey

Struck by the twigs 
proliferating on the paths 
as we walk 

the trees for the most part 
appear to be unscathed 
amazing how 

such prolific destruction 
in some parts of the world 
leaves not a dent

in the others

It was a perfect day 
between the pollen 
and torrential rain 

for picking up a dandelion 
to give your partner 
and make a wish 

as the seeds scatter 
knowing new life is 
waiting to be born

And when we remove 
the fabric that pulled us 
apart though it should 
have only been common 
sense not to spray our 
germs both viral and verbal 
over what is left of 
the neighborhood when 
we take down our last 
defense defenestrating 
the whims of chance breeze 
when we read the last 
think piece telling us 
what we want to hear is 
what they want to tell us 
when the global catastrophe 
going on in the other 
places is relegated to pages 
no one ever attends to 
what will we have to say 
to each other that has not 
already been said except 
this time you can read my lips 
no new understanding 
some of us never put 
the fabric on themselves at all

Night comes 
cat stares 
until scratched 

what would we be 
if our bodies were 
not our only 

sleep transforms 
our relations 
new skin 

crafted from hands 
pen to paper 
stirs circles 

if only we knew 
where we go 
when not here 

be there now

The poet on the radio 
described words as touching 
when placed beside one 
another 

even though these words will 
not touch your ears 
the most I can hope for 
as you scan 

is that someone might 
speak them aloud 
putting their own words 
together 

intentionally intoning 
how we speak to one 
another ourselves 
this one here 

the other unknown
until spoken