These Days by Jeannie Prinsen

These days

the sun's in hiding. Morning drapes open

to darkness. Later, when I walk, flakes spin grey

against white sky. Beyond this snow-globe bubble

fires burn, bombs drop. I look behind

at my footprints, how my heels drag

with every step.

A driver honks to warn a squirrel

daring to cross the street -- gesture

of small comfort. I'll keep

pulling the curtains back. I'll pick up

my feet.

Jeannie Prinsen

Jeannie Prinsen lives with her husband, daughter, and son in Kingston, Ontario, where she teaches an online course in essay writing at Queen's University. Her writing has appeared in Juniper, Fathom, Relief, Barren, and elsewhere.

Twitter: @JeanniePrinsen Blog: Jeannie Prinsen (http://prinsenhouse.blogspot.com/)

About this poem

'I wrote "These days" in early 2020: news from Australia and Iraq hung heavy over the world, and I was pondering whether the tiny acts of compassion we see around us make any difference at all. I hope so.'