What I Fear Most
by Kim Kishbaugh

Last night I dreamed of zombies
chasing me…reaching me… touching me… and I didn’t know
would that turn me into a zombie.
I woke drenched in sweat, heart pounding,
gripped by uncertainty and fear, wondering
whether to try sleep again.

By day, now, I sit outside sipping coffee
in an Adirondack chair on my front porch,
bathed in morning sunlight and solitude, the comforting absence
of joggers and walkers whose very breath I’ve learned to fear.

Here’s what I fear most:
My loved ones dying
alone, my hand not in theirs.

I cloister myself and my husband in the stucco sanctuary
of our home and send texts to my far-away son.
His answers comfort me. Short or long,
they mean, “I’m still OK.”

From my front-porch eyrie, I hear the cardinals chirp,
robins trill, and a bird whose voice I don’t recognize
call from high up in a tree somewhere slightly north.
A squirrel scrambles up the trunk of the tree of life, arborvitae,
mouth filled with pine needles,
preparing a spring nest for new life to come.

Today is Maundy Thursday, celebration of a blessing and a betrayal,
the washing of feet, the Last Supper.
I pray for an Easter miracle of life
in the here, not the hereafter.

A year ago Holy Week, Notre Dame stood shrouded in ash,
its skeleton bared to the sky, timbers still smoldering.
The world wept, held hands, and prayed.

This year, too, we weep,
but alone and for a different loss: normalcy and life,
souls too numerous to fathom.
Jesus died during Holy Week; so did Lincoln.
Only one was reborn.

BIO: Kim Kishbaugh is a former journalist who looks for magic in the universe and sometimes finds it. She is currently looking for magic at a safe social distance. Her work has been published previously at Headline Poetry & Press, Escape into Life, goodbaad, Back Patio Press, and elsewhere. You can find her on Twitter at @kkish.

Image by Stuart Buck is a visual artist and award-winning poet living in North Wales. His art has been featured in several journals, as well as gracing the covers of several books. His third poetry collection, Portrait of a Man on Fire, is forthcoming from Rhythm & Bones Press in November 2020. He is the art editor for kanstellation magazine and available for commissions all year round. He can be contacted via Twitter or E-Mail