Every day begins the same way
With a jolt into consciousness
From an endless dream.
Sometimes I’m racing to the airport to catch a plane
But there are no taxis or there’s something back home that I need to get --
My iPhone, my Amex card, the green backpack that I had in college
And yet somehow I’m still at home and the flight takes off without me.
Suddenly, I’m awake.
I run downstairs for breakfast, CNN, a podcast if I can fit one in,
Then upstairs to take a shower, throw on my clothes and makeup
To start my day.
And then it’s phone calls, talking to my staff, problems to be solved, leases to be signed
Tenants to be appeased, lawyers, bankers.
Around 1 PM I make myself a turkey sandwich on rye and watch more CNN
And while I’m eating a Milano cookie
The doorbell rings --
It’s UPS, FedEx, the mailman, a friend from way back
Who somehow still has my house key.
Outside my door I hear the sounds of protests down West 4th Street because
Black Lives Matter
And the police helicopters whirring overhead to make sure things don’t get too crazy on the ground.
And at 7 PM while I’m having dinner and once again watching CNN
And eating stir fry shrimp or something I ordered online,
I hear the cheering from the windows and the clanging pots and pans to thank the nurses and the doctors who saved our lives from this pandemic.
Because it isn’t over --
However much we long to get things back to normal
And go outside again without a mask and hug our friends
And put this endless day to bed
And wake up fresh and new again.
Rosalind Resnick
June 11, 2020
With a jolt into consciousness
From an endless dream.
Sometimes I’m racing to the airport to catch a plane
But there are no taxis or there’s something back home that I need to get --
My iPhone, my Amex card, the green backpack that I had in college
And yet somehow I’m still at home and the flight takes off without me.
Suddenly, I’m awake.
I run downstairs for breakfast, CNN, a podcast if I can fit one in,
Then upstairs to take a shower, throw on my clothes and makeup
To start my day.
And then it’s phone calls, talking to my staff, problems to be solved, leases to be signed
Tenants to be appeased, lawyers, bankers.
Around 1 PM I make myself a turkey sandwich on rye and watch more CNN
And while I’m eating a Milano cookie
The doorbell rings --
It’s UPS, FedEx, the mailman, a friend from way back
Who somehow still has my house key.
Outside my door I hear the sounds of protests down West 4th Street because
Black Lives Matter
And the police helicopters whirring overhead to make sure things don’t get too crazy on the ground.
And at 7 PM while I’m having dinner and once again watching CNN
And eating stir fry shrimp or something I ordered online,
I hear the cheering from the windows and the clanging pots and pans to thank the nurses and the doctors who saved our lives from this pandemic.
Because it isn’t over --
However much we long to get things back to normal
And go outside again without a mask and hug our friends
And put this endless day to bed
And wake up fresh and new again.
Rosalind Resnick
June 11, 2020
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