GRIEF Poem: Confined, by Donia Mounsef

In Memory of my Sister Rima (1963-2020)

Confined, refined, undefined, resigned to
house arrest, without guests,
pressed for eternal time,
dispossessed – where did you hide your despair
during those dark days?
In the haze of rushing ambulances,
when people cheered the nurses, then cursed them?
On what piece of dirt can we meet if we are not dead yet?
can we watch the sunrise with all those who gave up
their lives so we may continue to live,
eat in restaurants, and gather at Thanksgiving?

We buried you, eleven of us at your funeral,
one under the maximum allowed,
everyone all alone, grieving six feet apart,
after long nights of separation,
we pitched a tent next to your grave,
on the dried earth of our disappearance.
Are all those we lost, who coughed their lungs out
so we may drink at the bar without masks,
huddled together on the high seas of our selfishness?

Would you trade your hockey tickets for a respirator?
for a telescope, to look for them,
gathering nectar from celestial stars
to spike our drinks with compassion?

Author: poetryfest

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