I Wait


                        -by Neal Lemery 8/13/22

Possibilities arise in

this space of time and place

unfilled, unscheduled.

I breathe with no expectation

of production, accomplishment, success.

No score keeping, no quotas

no reports to make at the end of the day,

just being unaccountable, 

idle by someone else’s rules,

practicing uneasy patience.

Ideas swirl, circling to land

take root, grow into something

more, developing, on its way to

completion

yet still forming, still in its making,

still in utero, not yet ready, 

me merely anticipating.

I wait, letting its yeast grow, ferment.

I will let it rise, giving it patience, time,

allowing it to grow on it own time.

I am but the kneader, the bread maker, letting the 

Muse pass through me, hoping I can net the gift she has today.

I am merely the nurturer, the

scribe. 

–Neal Lemery

8/10/22

First Jab, Second Jab


                        

Like everything Pandemic

a process, a waiting —

delays to slow us down, make us

appreciate what is to be done. I remain

Impatient.

First jab in so easy, the nurse and I 

high fiving, filling out the card, 

scheduling round two, ready for another

                        Wait. 

A band-aid souvenir, with the slight ache, the knowing 

I had a shot, time now for the body to

React, respond, build an army in defense

To the unseen, the deadly. I am no longer, maybe, a

                        Corona Contaminator.

In limbo land, another wait to be complete, now much less likely

to die, even wanting to, as a ventilator’s captive.

Four weeks for #2, dreaming of 

vaccinated freedom, the beginning of plans to 

escape, to be a 

                        Pandemic Parolee.

Jab Two comes, easy as pie, another “little pinch”, another high five,

another line on the CDC card filled out — “complete” —

no new appointments, the only wait

two weeks to be one who is

Fully Vaccinated. 

I breathe easy now, not waiting to maybe fall ill,

to gasp for life, be a Pandemic Death statistic. I am no longer 

“possibly contagious”, and I can move on, no longer

Vulnerable. 

4/5/2021.