COVID Hands by Christine Deynaka

By Christine Deynaka

Worry.  Don’t write.  Pace.  Try to write. Obsessively scroll through COVID updates.  Avoid writing. Adopt a sourdough starter and name her “Lily”.  Make bread.  Write a few uninspired lines. Think of mortality. Update my will. Download calming music.  Start to write in spurts. Wallow in writer’s block with Corona (the good memories kind) and lime to escape corona (the bad memories kind).    

 

COVID Hands

Hands wrap Christmas gifts

casually dine, shop, touch

before your invisible invasion

camouflaged by a crown 

that strangles, ambushes 

the frail, the carers, the social 

retreating like prisoners

stockpiling and sanitizing

lonely hands that become

wrung, wrought, red, raw

tracing outbreaks, clusters, death

hands gloved, sewing masks

banging pots and pans

punching down homemade bread

isolated hands that yearn 

but cannot hug

About the Author

Christine Deynaka studies creative writing at Selkirk College in Nelson. Some of her short stories were previously published in the Black Bear Review.

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