DECEMBER 2021: THE LOST YEAR #poetry by jay

I have no collection of poems or tiny messages
wrapped in wax paper / delivered by little gnomes

I see no fortunes ahead / in miniature globes with snow
handed to little fingers with pointy wedged toes and

there are no fancy delights ringing in our dreams of 
sugar plum scenes / nonsense to lessen the pain of No!

I cannot deliver magic and abundance on twinkle twinkle 
little star without acknowledging the loss / the tragedy / the sorrow

that lands on our door / cleaving open the closed / bitten heart of denial 
reigning pain / on our cities and towns / onward they march as we cower / we clamor

we collide in the streets / the thrumming of the New Year threatens / assaults / our confidence
lost in the dreams / some believed / some not / some scurry in doubt / and some— some retreat. 

©Jay Mora-Shihadeh

Photo by olia danilevich

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