Green in the Time of Virus

A Poem by Gunilla Norris

What we speak becomes the house we live in. –Hafiz

Green as in foolish, innocent and very young.

Green as in never caring when things take a turn

into nowhere again and keep on keeping on.

So many are dying, so many now bereft.

Green as the over-sweeticing on the gift cake

someone brought me with all the candles burning

and many more for years to grow. Green again.

Green as inspiration on a dark day looking into

the crack in the concrete, wanting a tiny weed to suffice.

Green, oxidized copper, the metal of Venus,

that solders what’s broken together again. Can we love

enough to bear the inevitable cost? Can we bear not to love?

Green, a time I haven’t lived before but awaits patiently

like all things that are slow to come out of hiding.

Green gives me long, beautiful leaves, that are like the lyrics

to a song my heart sings to itself while I sleep

oblivious to all that is crying. It’s hard to wake up and

discover myself barefoot standing on hummocks

of packed winter grass. My feet burn with cold,

but unde…