A Different Grief: Ilana Lombardo

April 29, 2020, Kate Belew With Ilana Lombardo

Have you ever reminisced about tomorrow?

The months stretch, the back of a cat and then go 

on, scratching at tomorrow’s door.

I feel empty about it already, a different grief 

A bereavement of things to come; of strangers I could meet

I miss the dive bars of my future weekend 

The late nights, feet hitting hot pavement, smells of 

trash in the street, pizza ovens, this city 

with all of its imperfections revered in reverie 

I want to be packed into the subway again 

crowded but calm; some bizarre serene hiding beneath chaos

having to wonder where everyone was going and now 

faded memories of the train car are drowned by silent streets.