One day when we are strong, we will walk together.

One day when we are strong, we will walk together.

The Covid year will slip into the undulations of our time.

no people in gowns and masks stopped access to you,

you did that.

Silently, drifting away. 

Stating years of lack of oxygen preventing happiness.

In the Covid year, and years before

No vaccine to inject, to protect, to resolve.

 

One day when we are strong, we will talk together.

Talk of how I sometimes lose words,

yet they tornado from me, in the loud moments,

then settle.

No people in gowns or masks to protect you,

no vaccine to resolve or quiet the tornado,

chaperoning me to calmer winds and breezes,

in the Covid year and before.

 

One day when I am strong, I will talk  

Of my survival craft, my boxes, my rock.

Outwardly strong, inwardly turmoiled,

battered by storms, embraced in calm seas,   traversing valley floors and hill peaks

seeking, finding, enacting solutions, surviving

I survive, I have survived, previously.

But now, in surviving a vacuum grew

a chasm of no noise, no voices.

 

One day when I am strong, I will talk of how   

I could not solve your silence, breach your distance. 

How I stood, watching and listening as my green heart,

my best friend, drifts away.

No vaccine, no injection to protect and resolve.

In the aftermath of the Covid year

 

One day our, my, strength and embered belief may be enough to begin a new journey.