The Counting Year
I've got the Big Eye again,
as my Mamaw would have said,
worries jerking back the covers
I count the minutes until
the alarm
I count a lot these days
Measuring my days in yards of fabric and thread
For awhile I couldn't buy thread
Or toilet paper or dish soap
or eggs
I measured my days in eggs.
We counted shoppers in stores
Guarding our safety in six foot circles
Reeking of sanitizer
As we stared down the bleak half-empty aisles
together/apart
This was the year we counted our lost wages
Hoping the furloughs were a passing phase
and not the way of things
from now on
making do, stretching out, well
at least we saved on gas for the car
Walks taken, dance halls dark
tomatoes planted,
(so many tomatoes!)
home-baked bread, recipes from lush times,
pans of comfort we'll probably regret later
as we count our steps
This was the year we inventoried babies in cages
borders closed, promises broken, pacts ignored,
countdown to elections
count up the votes
and so many lies
so many lies, we finally stopped counting
Nearly half a million
loved ones lost
We helplessly share our grief and rage
through flickering screens and a few lines
of insufficient sympathies
As we fight for salvation and healing
and rest (oh just a few moments more)
we count our blessings and
give thanks for the gifts of
resilience and laughter
friendship and courage
music and love.
Sarah Gowan - November 19, 2020