Today I broke my quarantine, 
Left my home and my cat
And my neighborhood --
The quiet and tranquil West Village --
That sheltered me from the viral storm 
These past few months 
And headed off to see
The buildings that I own in Brooklyn. 

Was that the reason why I went?
It’s hard to say. 
My property manager could have gone alone,
As she has done before,
And, sure, I told myself,
I have a piece of paper in my bag that says that I’m a landlord
And allows me to provide essential services to my tenants
Just in case someone stops and asks me
Why in the world I am going to Brooklyn. 

But the real reason why I put on that ugly mask and those blue rubber gloves
And ran down the steps of the West 4th Street subway station before switching to a taxi
When I found out that the F train was running on the D track (no surprise there)
Was because I wanted to make sure that the city that I loved so much 
Was still there, standing tall and proud,
After all the deaths and all the damage that was done. 

And then, as my cab mounted the Manhattan bridge, 
I saw it, New York City,
Like the Sun bursting from the sky in all its glory --
The Brooklyn Bridge, Lady Liberty, the East River 
Where they shoot off the fireworks on the Fourth of July — 
Just the way it was before.  
And then, in Brooklyn, I saw the joggers and the riders
And the couples hand in hand walking their dogs 
And the people squeezing in the door of the bagel shop
Down the street from the block where my buildings were still standing 
And the FedEx trucks and the delivery guys and the bike messengers
Filling the streets just like they had before.
 
And suddenly my heart leapt like a happy dolphin
And I knew in an instant that the apocalypse was over 
And that the city that I love so much,
The city that even in its darkest hour is the envy of all the world,
The city of strivers, of dreamers, of survivors,
My city -- New York City -- was still alive
And always would be.


Rosalind Resnick 
May 7, 2020

​

On the other side of the mirror 
You used to wait for me 
As my train pulled into Santa Maria Novella station. 
Tired and hungry but so happy to see you,
I would kiss your sweet lips as I melted into your arms
And then we’d grab a pizza and check into Room 411
Where our love, like magic, was renewed,
And would begin again. 

Now that station, once so full of life, is empty
Except for police with sticks and masks.
There are no planes or trains 
To reconnect lovers who live on opposite sides 
Of that great ocean. 
All that remains are the vacant buildings where people once stood and played
And lovers with cones of gelato trickling down their fingers once kissed
By the statue of the porcellino. 

On the other side of the mirror,
It seemed like thousands of years went by 
As constellations chased each other across the universe
And every moment that  we spent together
Was like a magic lozenge sweet with rays of setting sun. 

On this side of the mirror,
There is no magic or fantasy. 
Days move quickly and night comes before I realize that morning has already departed 
And the only sounds are the shrieks of ambulances taking the sick away
And the silence of quarantines
That imprison beating hearts
And turn hot tears of separation
To cold and dusty memories
On the other side of the mirror 
Where all has been forgotten.

Rosalind Resnick
April 30, 2020

​

Non ho occhi che per te, 
ma tu non ci sei.
Senza più il dono della vista, arranco sul proscenio della vita 
Cercando te,
l'unica protagonista 
La stella che illumina la vista 
L' unica capace di dar forma alle cose
L'unica capace di dare un senso alle cose.
 
Ciro De Martino
Feb. 14, 2018
 
Translated into English by Rosalind Resnick

Like Tiresias 

I have no eyes for anyone but you,
You who are not here with me today. 
Bereft of sight,
I trudge across the stage of life
Seeking you,
My heroine, my one and only,
The shining star who guides my journey. 
You alone give shape to being. 
You alone give life its meaning.

​Go the extra mile. 
That's what they teach you
In school, 
In sports,
On a hike at Girl Scout camp. 
Don't stop
No matter how much
Your feet hurt,
No matter how tired, 
How sick,
How sad you are,
No matter much you would rather
Stay in bed
And call in sick. 
Get up, get dressed, 
Go out into the world.
Let the frigid wind
Lash your back,
Chill your bones,
Freeze your breath
And, after you have walked
To the ends of the Earth
And you can walk 
No farther,
I say go --
Go the extra mile.
 
 
Rosalind Resnick
Jan. 2, 2018
 

You came as a wolf,
I dressed as a witch,
Masked revelers
In a sea of a faces. 

You grabbed my hips
And pulled me toward you
In the darkness,
You who knew me only as a witch. 

I offered you my painted lips
And felt instead your teeth
Upon my neck,
I who knew you only as a wolf. 

And then you kissed me,
My blood on your tongue,
The twinning of two souls,
The taste of deep desire. 

It was then that I knew
That I had found you
And that you had found me
On Halloween night 
In a crowd of revelers. 

Rosalind Resnick
Oct. 24, 2017

I put my loneliness aside.
I don't remember where I left it.
Like a red car in a parking lot,
I didn't think that I could ever lose it.

Flying home alone,
My skin still burning from your touch,
Loneliness was the coffee they served cold,
The elixir that filled my soul with emptiness.

Now my loneliness is gone,
Disappeared without a trace.
Without you, time has muted my desires,
Buried my loneliness in an unmarked place.

Rosalind Resnick
July 25, 2017

On a solitary road,
On a mountaintop,
On the raging seas,
I can't remember where we met
Or who you were --
My father, my teacher, my lover --
In the twisted journey of my life.
 
It was a misty day,
Steam rising from the water,
And there I was, stones in my pockets,
Staring down at my shoes,
Uncertain of the road ahead.
 
Suddenly, I saw you
Standing by the lake,
Eyes blazing, hands outstretched,
A stranger from afar
Beckoning to me to come near.
 
Who are you --
An immortal come to Earth to bear me away on eagle's wings
Or a clever alchemist who turns lead to gold?
 
 
ROSALIND RESNICK
June 28, 2017
​

How desperately I longed to see your face
I who am doing penance for unmasking you.
How could I have known that you were the young god of love
When they planted seeds of doubt in my curious mind
And those seeds sprouted into monsters?

They left me on a cliff and dressed me as the bride of death,
Envious of my beauty,
Yet you put aside your arrow and your bow to bear me to your palace
On an eagle's wings
Where invisible hands fulfilled my every need
And your loving touch brought me to heights of pleasure.

But that was not enough.
I was just a girl and had to know your true identity
And for that glimpse of stolen knowledge paid a price.

Now I am here,
Beaten and bruised,
Crossing the River Styx to meet Persephone, the Queen of Hell, and Cerberus, the three-headed beast who guards her gates.
Here among the howling shades
Have I found true love at last,
The eternal flame that burns the flesh but never dies.

Can you forgive me, heart of my heart,
I, who humbled by the great Aphrodite, still longs to be the soul of your soul?
Might I not dare one day to earn my place with you among the gods?

ROSALIND RESNICK
JUNE 13, 2017

Posterity

Sometimes I wonder
If posterity will decide
That I spent too much time on my business
And not enough writing poetry
Or the other way around.
Every day, I push rocks up a hill
Only to find them at the bottom the next morning.
Every night I wake up looking for my past,
A trail of lost loves and buried memories.
Am I still the girl who stood on her tiptoes to kiss a sunflower
Or a seeker of bread crumbs lost in a labyrinth?

Rosalind Resnick
April 25, 2017

Under a different moon,
We shone rebelliously,
A pair of rough-edged diamonds
Refusing to be polished smooth
By life's conventions.

It is Spring's first day,
But the wind blows cold
And the buds have not yet started blooming.
Sometimes I think of you
And how we loved and how we laughed
And what we lost
When we decided to live apart,
Divided by a sea of memories.

The winds have changed,
But they may change again.
Perhaps these fleeting words,
Which I have slipped into a bottle of hope and longing,
Will one day wash up on a distant shore
For you to savor
Under a different moon. 


Rosalind Resnick
March 21, 2017