May Day During COVID-19
by Elaine Nussbaum

My husband comes to me in a dream.
He has been dead thirty years, struck
by a car in Ecuador. Because his body
was so far gone by the time it arrived
in the States, the undertaker would
not let me see him. I often dream he
fabricated his own is death, that he
is alive and living the dream in Ecuador.
But in this dream he tells me. This Covid-19
pandemic—you will all be okay. I often
dream my mother is still alive, that she
was buried alive, and after many years,
escapes. I think about the thousands
of humans who will not get to say
goodbye to their loved ones.
The Camellia bush behind my compost,
that has not bloomed in sixteen years,
produces two exquisite pink blossoms.

Image by Stuart M. Buck

Elaine Nussbaum lives in Scappoose, Oregon, writing from a cabin surrounded by 3&1/2 acres of second growth forest. She holds a Certificate in Writing from the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at Boulder University (1986), and an MFA in Writing from Pacific University (2013). Her work has appeared in Poetry Seattle, Bombay Gin, The Sun, Spilt Infinitive, Louisiana Literature, Silk Road, and Thimbleberry. A chapbook of her work, Poems in the Key of D Flat was published by Overwrought Press in 1992, and a collection of her poetry, Jesus Christ Made Seattle Under Protest was published by Finishing Line Press in September, 2019