By J. L. Wright
Longing for a way home to earth
before the planet took a left turn
before the bodies in the sky
become aligned six feet apart
and Saturn and Venus lit the sky casting
deistic demented shadows on the moon
changing our trajectory into this dimension.
Life on a planet which is not our own,
its soil foreign and rich,
air clear and clean,
animals reclaiming their territory
life here is taken in home-sewn
3D printed phased reintegration
celebrated in drive bys and video chats.
2020 will not exist in the history books
pages will be left blank like the days
of incommunicative isolation
void of vision of a vaccine
unglazed like graduations
and empty except for
biohazard disposal reports
and mailed in recounted ballots
J. L. Wright writes from her Bellingham bedroom in northwest Washington during isolation. Her two hybrid poetry prose books Unadoptable Joy and Homeless Joy are available through Amazon. You can also read her at her blog https://rightwrightwrite.blogspot.com/2020/04/a-poem-not-yet-written.html Wrightings.
Writing during the Covid pandemic has been an outlet and an inlet for transforming how I feel. An outlet because I have poured out so much of myself onto paper and into electronic media. An inlet because I’ve learned so much about what is truly important: friends, family, my planet, and staying true to my convictions.