20th Page-Creative writing class-one page at a time during Pandemic

Art by Christine Reeves

I find myself in this dark dense platform. Unsure of myself, I check my camera and
volume. Are they looking through the darkness too? I hear clamouring in the kitchen. Voices
echo behind me; the light is too bright I should move to the couch. I have been anticipating this
class for a millennium. It seems all my other classes of writing led to this platform, this day, and
this hour. It is 2:00 PM. My heart races. I wonder how I can ever reach my son. I haven’t spoken
to my little one since February. The pandemic changed our time together like I am in one galaxy
and he’s in another, and his dad is this big super massive black hole between us. I try to forgive.
I am standing in the middle of a page.
I am the page
The spoken words surround me.
The crowds are cheering.
They shoot words at me randomly—not all at once
my pen bleeds
The page is turned the other way.
I see my baby
I run to reach him
I lay motionless
Lost my air
everyone walks away
This is me loving you by taking the
blows you didn’t know.
Did you?
This love pours out in memory and the words found me.
I was on my knees in the Adoration Chapel.
You went through my heart.
Saw through my eyes, and we shared a common bridge of time.

Published by Okanagan Valley View

Mother, SFO, daughter, sister, friend, volunteer, Independent Contractor-Invincible Housing, SSVdP, Employee for Interior Health

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