POEM #11
INTRODUCTION
Staying home during this pandemic has been a challenge, I muddled along most of today. Rescued in time when my best friend posted on social media about this year’s Pulitzer Prize Winner in Poetry, Jericho Brown. Reading some of his works has inspired my sleeping muse.
I have
paired my own poem from today with a picture that is an antithesis to the feeling conveyed in the verses. I love this capture of my darling husband:
our sailboat at one of its best performances slicing through the waters of the San Francisco
Bay.
Sailboat Slicing Through the Waters of San Francisco Bay. ©James Sobredo |
Shut in.
Not a permanent condition.
It's
pandemic rooted. For how long; speculations
Vary. Shut
in state. No longer unique
To elderly
women fearful of leaving the house.
Shut-in
stereotype. That’s out the window.
Eyes
peering through the wide picture window
Of my
bedroom as light from afternoon sun
Streams in.
How else would a shut-in spend the time
Loafing in thought?
Reclined in bed while
Betwixt and
between states of mind—neither
Asleep nor
fully awake. Eyes fixed through the window
At leaves swaying
to soft breezes outside.
Not a
comforting feeling watching the world go by,
Watching at
safe distance those large, long,
Pointy
leaves. Leaves from the Bird of Paradise.
Dark green
mature leaves act as curtains protecting,
Hailing golden
orange blooms imitating elegance.
Blooms stretched
subtly, arrogantly from stems,
Sturdy and
superior. Such certainty contrasts
The welling
feebleness in my head symptomatic
To what
happens when shut in. Potential hours
Of therapy
piling up if ignored. This state of uncertainty
Is a
downer. The option when outside is social
distancing.
At markets, tape-drawn square geometric
Lines on
the floor mark where one should stand.
It's line
dancing at its utmost awkwardness.
Today,
choices are few. Stay in. Ration edibles. Sleep.
Read. Worry. Dream. Write. Write as much or as little,
It matters not. Idleness is neither sickness nor gift.
Perhaps a
hybrid of both. Shut in, but not windowless.
Lethargic,
but not lifeless. Movement constrained,
But the
mind is free to wander. Imagination--a potent potion.
Poem ©Lu
Sobredo
Photo ©James
Sobredo
ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED
About the Author
Lu Sobredo is writer/publisher at
Lu Travels Abroad, a blog dedicated to folks whose limitations do not hamper
them from traveling. A year into early retirement her world collapsed from the
diagnosis of Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA). Her total life changed, but she did not
let RA define her. With love from family, friends and an awesome doctor, she
regained some functionality--her new normal. She will have RA all
her life. And she now writes about life and travel with RA. During the
pandemic of 2020, she stays put and writes poetry and a first novel, a travel
of sorts but in the heart and mind.
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