The next ancient world waits beneath my mother in her pink nightshirt making toast for us a kitchen cluttered with keepsakes baskets on the wall and dried flowers this morning it’s little gem donuts a steaming mug of dark roast coffee Post-its to-do and heavy rain Later when we all re-emerge when this pandemic slips back into the dark swamp we will not forget – man woman boy girl – no human is unscathed cancelled classes work-at-home a world online only where toilet paper is abundant and the next ancients will fly unbound by earthly shortcomings together alone above the curve
Michelle Frost is a writer of poetry, children’s stories, essays, and news features; a former bookseller at Changing Hands on Mill Avenue; writer in the schools and a literary tutor with after-school programs. Residing in Mesa, AZ, Frost has been published in Yoga Journal, Portland Parent Magazine, Arizona Woman Today, and the new virtual publication Tales From the Pandemic.
Write On, Downtown 