April 1: An Unplanned Path

Abandoned Railroad Tracks (robotonoid, Pixabay)

Where do I go when the path ends?

Deep in memory, I follow a deserted train track,

hoping to find direction, soothed by the

stirring of the wind in the hemlock 

and fir above me, the sounds muted.

A jay calls warning,

then silence reminds me that

everything has changed 

and yet remains the same.

Memories of walks in the woods

are now juxtaposed against the latest news,

a steady drum of voices announces  

quarantine. Each day, deaths increase,

yet I am grateful for memory, 

if nothing else remains,

of those days walking in the woods

along an unplanned path.

The first day of April begins a month of challenges to write a poem a day to honor National Poetry Month. Here at home, despite it being the 23rd day we've 'sheltered in place,' I tried to write a poem using a prompt from nanopowrimo (National Poetry Writing Month) and found myself thinking about the impact of the coronavirus.

Today's prompt was to write a self-portrait poem in which I could take a specific action and make it a metaphor for my life. Perhaps, being older than average, memory and reflection fit.  Go here to participate!