Bio Note: I am a poet and story perofmer who spends time I should be working , reading, daydreaming , and or walking the beach. Although I mostly write about food, family, nature, and strong women, the events of the world around me do seep into my pen and find their way out again on paper.
Wild Jessamine creeps up the rough hewn red wooden slats of the abandoned house, sliding over the sharp angles of a broken window. Trumpeting the arrival of spring, its bright yellow blossoms, redolent with the scent of hope and joy burst open.
No Panic in Pandemic
Driving between our daughter’s two houses, old in Arlington; new, in Falls Church, to transfer breakables, just before the professional movers were scheduled, on the last trip of that ordinary Wednesday, we made a wrong turn. By the time we realized our error, we were trapped in a maze of roads with few exits. Although we once knew These roads, years of living away made us unsure of appropriate alternative turnoffs, so, like a piece of flotsam, we floated down Route 50 east toward DC instead of west into Falls church until Route 50 became Constitution Ave and I could see the Capitol looming ahead of us, my husband looked to the left, spotted a sign for 50 West so we wrenched the car into a u-turn to swim west on back into Virginia, a frisson of fear electrified me, panic, then release-- no policeman pulled us over, in fact, in spite of rush hour timing, our turn involved no dodging of oncoming traffic, no frantic high-power merge. Cars flowed west as lightly as those heading east. It was like being on a country road, or driving on a 1950s Sunday afternoon. No need for panic in the pandemic.
©2020 Joan Leotta
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