For my husband working the rounds in a COVID ward
Falling rain darkens
your coat, and
footsteps bring us nearer
Yet you stay six feet away
and strip off scrubs
in the shower
First flowers of spring
on the living room table
is it still March? Or April?
Warmth from you
and the mask lines on
your cheek is welcome to them
Your smile tunes birdsong
and these springtime poems sit
in your cupped and disinfected palm
If I could heal
like Jesus did when lepers
came to him kneeling
I would take your
heart in my hands and
breathe life into it
You would be baptized
the memory of this
pandemic washed clean
For lo I whisper
the kingdom is beautiful
within your heart
With no room
there in the chambers
for contagion
By Brandon James O’Neil
Biography
Brandon James O’Neil is a poet and scholar originally from Rochester, Michigan. He has recently relocated to Scottsdale, Arizona after living on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. His work has appeared in Plough, Image, and The Dewdrop.
This is excellent! So much feeling, such a delicate story, so well told. Thank you!.
The delicate emotion of wanting.. to feel close to.. to touch and hold… and to heal… the very hope of humanity to experience a love like this. Thank you for sharing your deepest desires…