The Poetry Marathon

My focus is warped

warring with a deep physical need

to soothe the swimmer’s itch rash

inflaming my legs.

My focus is divided

vying with the physical need

of finding a more comfortable

means of sitting up all night,

My focus is eroded

by the pain of our

discontented hearts,

In this,

the hour of darkness

May you keep faith

May it shine like a beacon

coating the shadows

in everlasting light.

In this time of COVID-19, 
Loneliness creeps in
to the farthest recesses
making it difficult,
if not impossible
to stay connected
to stay positive
to remain part of something bigger.

Not often am I concerned
about having control 
allowing the natural course of things
Social distancing 
Wearing masks
All with a distinct
lack of control.
All to remain part of something bigger.

With churches closed and no one to visit,

We zoomed my entire family, many for the first time

It was wonderful to see everyone.

To connect.

We also ate candy and cooked a ham.

Yikes!

How can I make my family photo albums?

I thought it would be easy.

Take a picture and download, edit, print.

Easy.

Then, I found

Undeveloped film

Negatives

CD’s

Kingston sticks

Now what?

What do I do now?

If you can help me with this problem,

then maybe you can tell me

How can I get all my photos in one place?

Right now, I have photos

On my phone,

On my tablet

On my husband’s computer

On the cloud

On Google Drive

On Instagram

On Facebook.

Now what?

I’m sure they are great pictures,

But for now,

I have to work from memory.

Are you warm enough?

Make sure you have some broccoli.

I saw this in the store and it reminded me of you.

You’re welcome.

Would you like a back rub?

You look tired.

Do you want to talk about it.

I’m here for you.

Count on me.

I’ve got your back.

Settling into my roomy seat
breathing sighs to release tensions
brought on by the airport
Travel was easier before 9/11
Everything was.

I wish I could fly without baggage
“I don’t like to carry things.”
I muse aloud.
That’s very French. 
My mind responds.
Yes. I smile mysteriously.

I love every new minute of the flight
champagne, reading, movies and nap

“The land knows you even when you are lost.” ~ Robin Wall Kimmerer

Rising with the sun, I give hommage to this day.

With the grass full of dew, I relish in the cool comfort as I garden, working the soil 
and working my soul at the same time.

I lay on the beach.
My belly nestled in the soft sand as I watch the waves roll in. 
A lone cry of a gull slices the solitude.

Almost, I have found my way home.

Walking
That is to say, the exercise of walking
baffles me
and I think of this often 
in my strolls through the streets of my neighborhood 
When does a walk change into a hike, for example?
Do I unintentionally become a

Paris me manque. 
I write in my book. 
Dreams of France, 
past journeys and 
new adventures.
Scanning the pages
of words written so long ago.
Collected memories
of old love made new again.
Have I not sought you out again?
Looked to you for advice and wisdom?
Wanting to hold your hand
and have new experiences with you.
The French will embrace these 
memories as will men and women 
the world over. 
That your opinions haven’t changed.
This is what I hope. 
My old age may be made young again, 
through both our love 
and Paris.