Pandemic Poem Pt. III

March 18, 2020 Kate Belew, Alone

When I was a kid my mom would give me landmarks

for my dreams. Fountain, porch, field of sunflowers

so that I wouldn’t feel alone when I fell asleep. I could

plan on meeting her there in some blue horizon

past eyelids. And now, it kind of feels like that. Gesturing

out to the people that I know who are living just beyond

some door, wall, window, phone line, screen, also blue.

I don’t pretend to know what is going to happen and I tend

toward dramatics, I can’t help it. Back in February I began

saving rice just for this very reason. But look,

don’t be lonely. Imagine a fountain, like the one my mom

created out of nothingness, a smart woman who knew

that anchors do not always drag down, sometimes instead

they give you something to hold onto at the very bottom

of an ocean, deepening though it may be.