Permitted Daily Exercise 3
by Paula Jennings
Today, in this bay of white shells,
the waves are a restless dazzle
that tires my eyes. I’m worried
about the railing I touched earlier.
There’s the sound of a small engine
and a boat rounds the headland.
A solitary figure stands upright
in the stern, hand on tiller, no more than
slender darkness against the glare.
She radiates a quiet authority as though
she’s beyond this dislocated world.
I feel the sun warm on my back.
A Covid-19 sequence by Paula Jennings
|Hands||Poem by Paula Jennings|
|Hard Day||Poem by Paula Jennings|
|On the Hall Floor||Poem by Paula Jennings|
|Permitted Daily Exercise 1||Poem by Paula Jennings|
|Permitted Daily Exercise 2||Poem by Paula Jennings|
|Permitted Daily Exercise 3||Poem by Paula Jennings|
|The Name of the Virus||Poem by Paula Jennings|
|These Times||Poem by Paula Jennings|