After the war
Jordynn Klein, 2T2 Fitz
Artist statement:
This was a poem I wrote in late March/early April, when many of us were gripped by fear about COVID-19 and what it meant for ourselves, our loved ones, and our communities. I comforted myself by mediating on the idea of what life would be like when this was all over. As we head into what is likely to be a long and lonely winter, I found myself revisiting this poem and those coping strategies, once again imagining a warmer and more tenderhearted future.
gone are the days of the taste of dirt in your mouth.
you will eat blackberries
and strawberries and melon, gentle on your tongue
like dew in the meadow,
reassuring your softness. we will abstract prophecies
from cricket song,
fear no smoke rolling over the hill. despite everything,
we are flesh and blood still
swirling cream into morning coffee, relieved from
asking questions, or knowing
anything other than these incandescent hands
and how to build a home between them.
