Watch me read this poem.
Breathing is a little bit easier
Though all my ads
are for better masks
so I can keep my air
to myself and not inhale yours
Yet still I smile
You can see it
In my blue eyes
And their attendant wrinkles
At home we make each other laugh
We make art
We make up words
We make mistakes
We apologize
We rewind
And start over
We stay in our pajamas
Until getting dressed
becomes absolutely necessary
We must still hibernate
In our homemade cave
Which has certainly seen
cleaner days
But finally, we know that
spring is coming
Even if it takes until fall to arrive
We know emerging from
This claustrophobic
underground
Will take time
For some, a lifetime
Costing copious tears and
Sacrificial sweat
and innocent blood
that’s already been shed
And we will make it through
Make it up as we go along
Make it better than the broken truth
Make good
On our undelivered promises
To each other
Make space for all the voices
To be heard
Even when it means quieting our own
Make room for all the people
At the welcome table
Make a new way
One day we will take off our masks
And see each other clearly
And savor sharing the same sweet air
© Betsy Rosenblatt Rosso
January 2021
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