Coronatine, Day Sixty-five (Life Ain’t No Beach)

May 17, 2020 / lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

today we survived

a line that led to nowhere

(we’re safer at home)

Coronatine, Day Sixty-four

May 16, 2020 / lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

the sun keeps rising

and he bought a screen for pics

of all our travels

it can’t be the same

but the sun will rise again

and we’ll try again

Coronatine, Day Sixty-two

May 14, 2020 / lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

we’ve risen at dawn

for two months of lonely walks

but look at our view

Coronatine, Day Sixty-one

May 13, 2020 / lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

I went to the grocery store today, and I don’t want to write about the nightmare I had last night where no one was wearing a mask.

Could you imagine, three months ago, having a nightmare about people not wearing masks in Target?

Actually, King Soopers was well-stocked today. Everyone I saw had a mask on. People at 8:30am obeyed the one-way aisle rules, and best of all? I stayed within my budget.

I made a budget for my post-work husband, starting at the beginning of May. $200 a week. It may sound extraordinarily excessive, but we’ve got six mouths to feed, and these are American prices, after all.

But I bought extras today. This bugleweed. A roll of packaging tape. And sushi because fuck Wednesday cooking.

And, my nightmares should end soon.

Because my post-work husband got a job, a non-union, non-seniority-screws-you job, doing exactly what he’s great at and wants to do forever, in the midst of a pandemic.

And.

And you can call it what you want. White privilege. True. Luck. Absolutely. Divine intervention. Maybe.

Or just… fate. The fate that led him through the Air Force to me, that led the boy to our doorstep, that led three beautiful daughters into our home, that led his previous experience to him becoming the best candidate out of all the others being laid off.

Coronatine, day sixty-one. It’s a beautiful image filled with pets, hope, and love.

And I want to hold on to this non-nightmare feeling for as long as I can.

And.

This cat was born to be a model. Good night.

Coronatine, Day Sixty

May 12, 2020 / lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

like a pregnant mom

i wait for this peony

(bring blossoms, bring hope)

the first bloom beckons

all that is good on this Earth

(even the ants know)

Coronatine, Day Fifty-eight (Mother’s Day)

May 10, 2020 / lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

we’re stepping outside

into this beautiful yard

to celebrate love

it’s a bit risky

and only sixty degrees.

but it’s Mother’s Day.

each girl made a card

and worked to include this boy

in conversations

it’s as good as weeds

ripped from choking my garden

so beauty can breathe

Coronatine, Day Fifty-four (My Solitary View)

May 6, 2020May 6, 2020 / lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

It’s true that I am this tree here, standing starkly against the plains landscape with the out-of-reach mountains in the background. Once so vibrant, unafraid, now resting half-dead and waiting for the insects to burrow themselves into its bark.

This tree, still a viable perch for anxious hawks searching for field mice. This lonely cottonwood, defiantly naked in the sun while its smaller counterparts are beginning to blossom with the warm rays of May.

This tree framed by perfectly puffy white clouds and that ever-blue Colorado sky and the yellow and green grasses reaching from its roots to its branches, never able to reach far enough.

This tree, waiting for the right moment to release itself to the Earth, to decompose amongst the ashes of its ancestors, to not stand so high, so solitary, so isolated from its surroundings.

And you may not see it for what it is or what it once was: A testimony to strength in a harsh environment. A root ball so tenacious it stretches beyond the creek that feeds it, far into the wetlands, searching for those snow-capped peaks, the very peaks that feed it with their snowmelt.

And you may not think it should still stand, rather that it should fall and become a nurse log for the surrounding saplings.

Instead, it cuts into the horizon, carving a definitive form made from a lifetime of gnarled limbs into the sky, ready to fight until the sky falls, or it falls.

Whichever comes first.