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By Wendy Lewis April 29, 2021

Four Seasons 2020

We find ourselves in a land of four spaces:

spring, summer, autumn and winter.

Spring brought forth life… and death.

This season’s embryonic greenery is contraband to my soul.

Quarantined in ICU, where once verdant fronds grow desiccated.

I am breathless.

Passerine serenades grow silent through my locked-down windows.

Smiles and fears are cloaked with folds.

Only eyes are free to peek over their veils of protection.

Summer Update: Criminal activity of a social kind.

Parks are closed…barricaded like CSI crime scenes.

Shadows of verdant leaves pirouette on brightly colored fences while

I scream silently, “Too much space between me and the world!”

Autumn’s meager harvest is showcased on sparce supermarket shelves.

Such vain attempts to conceal the emptiness

by spreading out the merchandise one row deep.
           COVID-19 VR eyeglasses are the new normal

for blurred vision across our pandemically plagued planet.

Rose-coloured glasses are sold out, but be assured that

facial masks of every hue are in stock and ready to ship.

Winter’s ashen contours, wind-blown leaves, and memories of confinement

haunt the shortened days and chilly nights.

Living the same day, over and over again… in isolation.

Mournfully, the cycle begins once more

as lockdown’s shrill melodies

welcome twenty-twenty-one.

About the author

Wendy Lewis; visual artist, poet and Canadian woman of colour. Born into the Montreal experience a la Vico Magistretti, “look(ing) at usual things with unusual eyes”. Wendy is a 1st year Graphic Design student at Dawson College.


Photomontage by author.

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