Seven Weeks
The space between here and normal
Stretches further than from here to where we started.
Seven weeks of restless nights and grim mornings,
Waking to a world gripped by pandemic.Remember when we thought this might be one week or two?
Now months roll out the red carpet,
An endless walk to “business as usual”
With reporters posed as paparazzi screaming headlines.I don’t know quite how to explain the dread in my chest
–it’s political–
The ideological divide in our country and the distrust of science
Hollow me out like a carcass plucked by vultures on the roadside.
–it’s societal–
Over 30 million unemployment claims in the US.
Widening inequalities mounting on a local, national, and global scale.
–it’s personal–
I’m afraid what will happen if I contract coronavirus.
I grew up with asthma after all.
–it’s familial–
I miss being with my family, I worry for them,
And I hate not knowing when we’ll be together again.
–it’s friendship–
Some ties have grown stronger, others weaker.
I want to talk to everybody and nobody.
–it’s artistic–
I don’t know what I’m doing creatively,
And I miss being part of a group of artists.I worry about my experience of this experience.
Am I making the most of living through this?
Am I properly enraged at my representatives?
Have I created the right art?
What if I come out of this not having helped anyone?
What if I haven’t checked enough To Do’s off my list?
What if the only things marked as done are
My List on Netflix,
My Watchlist on Amazon Prime,
My Stuff on Hulu?I’d hate to look back and realize
The talent I’d wasted
While COVID-19 ravaged on.I thought if I made it through April
There’d be some sort of clarity.There are times in our lives we just have to get through.
Sarah Zureick-Brown 