Love in the Time of CV

I did not take down the Christmas tree;
it sparkles now in the warm April night
when my mood is mercurial like spring days.
It began in sunshine and ended in thunders and chill.
And the sparkling lights that trim the windows
and adorn the faux rafters are emblems
of a way of life that may never come again.

This morning, I had a dream, and
I laughed into a warm awakening.
Was you Sister Dear, come to talk in my dreams
as if you knew how much i missed you.
And i spoke to you about the plague;
we fell into laughter when i said:
they'd need a crew of strong men
to haul you out to the hospital care.

My belly heaved as we shared a joy
born of my love and yours,
of the fact that there is no part of my heart
that does not belong to you.

As my eyes slit to open onto
my New Life and her wide blue eyes.
She stared quizzically and smiled
that I would wake in laughter. Love
in the age of virus is a precious and grudging thing.

And so it was, on this hard day,
you Sister Dear touched me softly.
Not as a memory, but like the warming sun
from distance a gentle kiss on my cheek
a longed-for precursor that marked
the trail of a happy tear.