window visit 2020

By J.R. MacLean
Peterborough, ON

dearest old woman peeks
through a slim screened triangle
cranked open by a caregiver;
my fingers absently fondle
a metal hydrant protruding
from the brick
in case of fire
as we talk.

bet all the visitors do this don’t touch your face!

she waves through the sun-glared glass
as I drive away waving back with
my own sanitized paw. I can discern
only the motion- no face-
her pale palm signalling her
version of love as the road home
welcomes me.

the calls and texts come later.
she has hit the caregiver
in the face with her shoe
rammed her walker into the
glass of the auto-slide front door
screaming to be let out.

there is nothing to be done,
the cytokine emotional storm
will eventually yield to quotidian sweetness.

I wash my hands.
the plunger of the translucent
soap dispenser is defiled with grime.

it cannot be borne.

I unscrew the mechanism
extract it from clingy clear liquid
take an old toothbrush and scrub
everything out thoroughly
so it is as clear and fine and happy
as she deserves to be.

window visit 2020
Copyright © J.R. MacLean, 2020