Since he needs to stay home
plant his beans and beets and trees
I guess
It’s an opportunity for me
to plant roses.
Learn to play the piano,
sort through the years of piles
and boxes stacked in the loft
and blocking the hall.
But, instead
I learn the names of the anchors
on the news networks,
the Governors of states,
yesterday 4591 died
today my counties our first fatality.
I ache
for New York City,
for families who can’t hold hands
in the end
I ache for my mother
in her Memory Care Home.
and for myself grieving
though ever grateful
for cake
and for my students
who smile at my attempts to amuse them
and linger like they know
the echo when they go
of nothing here
but time
time to paint
so far,
a dozen big paintings
all close ups of dead trees
gnarly trunks, twisted limbs
burls and empty hallows
sawed off, broken branches
still reaching for blue sky.