by Siri Paulson
In a dark pandemic winter
our breath is trapped in our lungs
with fear of the breath-stealer
“Look for the helpers” sounds stale by now
“Let’s talk” sounds laughable
“Thank you” will never be enough
we cling to “Protect the vulnerable”
but it’s a long, long road
each of us walking alone
or in tiny groups, bereft
of the touches and smiles and tiny moments
that made up our lives, once
A day in the neighbourhood,
going for brunch with a loved one,
chatting with shopkeepers,
strolling home along the sidewalk
our breath easy, relaxed…
A spin on the dance floor,
a community moving together,
stomping and twirling as one,
smiling into others’ faces,
breathing each other’s air
as the band plays on the stage…
A hug from a loved one,
family or a dear friend,
catching a wink or a gaze,
sharing a plate across the table,
a visit to a home where we are welcome,
a head massage or a playful poke,
breathless because we’re laughing so hard,
casual platonic intimacy…
A flight across the globe,
an adventure away from home,
new air entering our bodies as we breathe deep
new smells sounds tastes sights,
to carry back inside us, expanded…
We never dreamed of a day
when we’d lose all of those at once
the little things and the big ones,
crowds and theatres and stadiums
casual shopping, casual hugs,
bare faces and free breaths,
lives more expansive than we knew…
Now we are small
contracted, constricted
the innocence we didn’t know we had
stripped away, our breath caught in our throats
with each death, each variant,
each time we don a mask
“To keep each other safe,”
we repeat, clinging to the mantra…
hoping that one day, the spell will work,
the enchantment will be broken
the science will triumph
and we can step out of our castles again
without fear or anxiety or grief
and take a deep breath,
look into each other’s eyes,
and see each other’s smile,
and breathe out.