TuesDay News-day, special edition. Invisible Winds: Poem for greiving the unknown losses of the times and praying for barometers

Some thing is hitting me hard. I can’t even see it. 1000 lightning strikes in my fingertips; 1000 floods in my heart.

Something has been buried, but I never got to go to the funeral. 1000 memories stuffed in synapses in my mind. 1000 miles I would have walked if I’d known I’d get to say goodbye.

Something inside is throbbing, not just the daily aches and pains, remorse and regret, creeping feelings. Thousands of them, swimming, then nothing’s left.

Something needs to be felt, not figured out. 1000 changes, 1000 wind chimes to signal when it changes direction.

Feeling the need to retreat and unplug. Craving more disconnect? Doesn’t seem real.
Praying for my grandparents’ upcoming ordeal, MM is having surgery. She fell and broke her wrist and PP is struggling to be present in his own hard-of-hearing world. I pray for our loved ones who are hurting.
Better days when we could play outside, our dear friend is experiencing cancer and I pray for him and his dear partner.
Up close and questioning…
Covid? Well yeah, it is.

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