By Christina Laurie
Cape Cod Branch, Massachusetts

 

 

“Nothing was remembered, nothing forgotten.
When we awoke, the enemy attacked.”

—anonymous

 

 

                  Our windowsills were wet

                  from the rain last night.

                  Birds settled on stone walls

                  then scattered into vine-entwined trees.

                  But peace did not reign

                  and life was broken in a moment.

 

                  Nothing was accepted, nothing looked backward.

                  Grandfather clock separated hour from hour,

                  hands creeping slowly.

                  No one drew into deserted streets

                  yet animals moved about.

                  Stores boarded up, dark, emptied.

                  Faces with expressionless eyes

                  covered by masks or bandanas.

                  Still we washed our hands so often

                  our skin wrinkled and knuckles bled.

 

                  Nothing was remembered, nothing forgotten.

                  When we awoke, the enemy attacked.

 

                  Soon we were separated by six feet

                  and streets and houses were silent.

                  No hand clasping hand, no hugs shared

                  but we could bump elbows.

                  We have withdrawn into our private lives.

                  Neighbors have left their rain-soaked windows.

                  We cannot eat together,

                  nor dance, nor walk arm in arm.

                  We sleep alone in the depth of moonless nights

                  dreaming of sunny days.

 

                  We have learned the beginning,

                  we do not know yet where it will end.

                  We attempt to create a new life,

                  but the old keeps haunting our nights

                  as we linger on the edge

                  of oblivion.