The Long Wait
I’ve been holding
my breath
in the stagnant air
of my mask, waiting
in line, outside,
inching six feet
at a time, toward
a sanitized passport
to home cooking.
Inside, I stand frozen
with the flowers.
Beauty cut,
dying. The collective
pain is palpable.
I’m still
with the flowers
when M video-calls
from the hospital.
Upbeat music blares
ridiculous and wrong
over her muffled voice.
I rush outside
so we can talk
without mask,
without song.
She’s weeping.
Between tears
and gasping breaths
she says, I just wanted
to see your face.
And then she has to
hang up because
all the alarms are going off.
Laura Rockhold is a poet and visual artist. She is the inventor of the golden root poetic form and recipient of the Bring Back The Prairies Award, Southern MN Poets Society Award, and a Best of the Net nominee. She is published in numerous journals. Find her at: www.laurarockhold.com.
The Mantle 