Can I hold you today?
Can we forget for a while about the gray
and the gruesome?
A year from now,
I won’t remember every
or government ordinance.
I’ll remember the 7 p.m. cheers,
the chatty check-ins,
the late night phone calls
and the impromptu FaceTimes.
The scent of sanitizer will pop up in pale traces,
overpowered by the aroma of the best bread I’ve ever had,
born at my fingertips.
I’ll remember the lilac roses for my mother,
the mango tree for my lover.
Green for growth.
Greeting eyes from a passing stranger,
accomplices with our smiles locked beneath protective layers.
The music, always abundant,
and the hope, always overflowing.
A year from now, that’s what I’ll remember.
What will you remember about the global quarantine? What memories will you choose to focus on?
Image via Kelly Harbach