April 5, 2015
We stay home, suspended in the ether of a bad cold,
bypassing plans for Passover dinner with my mother and Easter brunch
with hers. All day, images pour in - families on the hunt
for undercover eggs, dressed-up spiral hams and pastel-hued bouquets,
backyards newly cleared of snow and the delight and relief of April, finally,
arriving. We lie on the couch watching hour after hour of a tense show
on Netflix, legs entwined with spent Kleenex and cough-drop wrappers.
Occasionally, we gather the energy for tea or leftover soup, but mostly,
we are still, breathing through half-nostrils, waiting unceremoniously
for the virus to pass. I'm happy, I think, and we kiss, like a pact, between episodes.