By María Castro Domínguez
The New Normal
going out is discovering a country ─over the phone we drink love and fear─
the daily ovation from balconies feels we are applauding trees sky and earth
the dog walkers with tired dogs look at me as if I was the only dog-less human a woman sneezes outside a mask she wears it like a necklace I catch her gems of germs window panes announce sales pre-covid clothes collects dust and becomes aged a parrot cocks his head to one side it’s how it he sees this world a neighbour has made an eggless cake she cracked sunshine in the flour
A Better Beginning
I dreamt you were the only one
in your house,
a few months after that I saw
all the world
and all its people laughing,
a party was going on
in a fast food restaurant a birthday cake
was divided into portions,
there was more than enough
The weather forecast from this window
For months we see the sky and trees moving
from a window just like a Hopper scene from inside.
Behind a screen the weather forecast is being tended
by a woman, her green eyes and breezy voice speaking
about rain, about trapped clouds and floating fogs
and winds that aspire to become hurricanes.
She points to suns with fully bloomed faces
and marble moons covered with half nights.
This will be the geography for next week:
gasps of healing oxygen will be heading our way soon.
She predicts lightening and temperatures rising
and summer squabbling with spring,
telling us how it feels to be touched by the weather
and a landscape that is distant, yet familiar.
María Castro Domínguez was born and raised in the UK. She is a freelance writer and translator living in Gran Canaria. Her poems have appeared worldwide. She’s currently working on a new collection.
The weather forecast from this window’ was highly commended in last years Borderline Poetry Competition. ‘A better Beginning’ was published in Stepaway magazine and ‘The New Normal’ was chosen as part of the National Flash Fiction Day NZ.
All these poems were written in lockdown from Gran Canaria where I was taking care of my husband who was battling with cancer, so it was in very angst-filled moments that the writing took place (he died in May last year).
‘The weather forecast from this window’ was my reaction to hearing the weather forecast on the television, I felt it was like a fiction, unusual like as if ‘the weather’ belonged to another planet. ‘A better Beginning’ came to me in a dream, and funnily after months of every restaurant being closed -even Macdonalds- when they reopened again I did see many parties; I felt humanity had been given a second chance.
I do believe that poetry is particularly resonant in difficult times, because of its concision and prosody it speaks out to everyone more directly.