“Bless you” to the spouse in the middle of another sneezing fit prompted by an allergen
you can’t control. “Bless you” because each riotous interruption places you square
in the room with an affliction your DNA somehow managed to avoid, and someone else –
in this case, a person you love who shares your address – keeps taking one for the team.
And “Bless you” because, while for one of you that itch at the back of the nose has become
rote as the mailman’s arrival, the pile of tissues perpetual like the circulars
mounting in the trash, there is something of a pause the stack offers your attention,
and the sound of a body shaking against its unshakeable rival a reminder of the paradox
survival demands, a ceaseless war between resistance and acceptance. You say “Bless you”
because how else could you possibly thank the dust-filled wind that blew you here together?
Posted by kind permission of the poet.
Holy Earth, Holy Cosmos, I bow before you With my whole being. Holy Creatures, Holy…
The optometrist says my eyes are getting better each year. Soon he’ll have to lower…
We are living now our regrets and our failures, the ache of what we wish could be again,…
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