In Covid Enrobing – for Shadows

Denise Antaw

in tarnished mercury speckle
another wintery Covid weekend.
She no longer listens for the sound
of latch-lift at her gate;       
since Covid’s time-lines set in place
mean the rest of her own Time-Line
must wait.
Another day for old photos but first, I must dress               
She chooses the crushed-velvet skirt
pleased with the long black line.
Over her delicate frame
she slides “that” silky black shirt.
From shoulder to hip - serpentine
shines its white satin-stitch –
The wide black cuffs - she buttons them down, 
inside out
for flair my dear - she once said - at one’s wrist.

Beneath her upswept white hair
Dragons in silver

Covid’s time-line defined
By her own black line

To nearly quote Henry James: a writer is someone on whom no word is lost. And writer/scholar Ong: …with the word – a direct pitch into the consciousness.

In this submission, Denise is trying to “word” the existential thread of connection…between connection and mental health… during Covid-isolation.

Denise trained in advertising and Art.  She is still creating worlds – with words. 

Her appreciation of the encouragement from her local FAW Poetry Group is total.

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