"Spirit" by Judith Terzi

Spirit
for Danielle

She had to move him to a home away from home.
A month passed by, then lockdown came.
Alone in his room, only dreams unconfined.
The staff, they love his banter, his gentleness,

humanity. Two months passed by, lockdown eased.
She visits now, she sits outside between the ferns
and birds of paradise. The staff, they love his jokes.
He sits inside, behind tall glass in the living room.

She sits outside amidst the potted palms and ferns.
They're talking on a cell. How she loves his calm,
his hair, that telltale grin behind the windowpane.
He tells her to be careful, not to trip, to lock

the doors at night. They're talking on their cells.
He's looking good though illness weakens him.
Once so robust! He tells her to lock the doors,
not forget to use her Lancôme creams.

They FaceTime every day. He's looking good,
he's happy in the place, feels safer than before,
reminds her to smear her Lancôme creams.
Soon, she'll visit face-to-face in the patio,

six feet apart. He's happy in the place, feels safe.
He'll see her luminescent skin, she'll see his eyes
face-to-face between the ferns and birds of paradise.
Like vulnerable trees, their roots will intertwine —

no touch this time. He'll see her luminescence,
she'll see his eyes in this home away from home.
Like vulnerable trees, their roots will intertwine.
Together for a while, a dream unconfined.

Judith Terzi

Author of Museum of Rearranged Objects (Kelsay Press, 2018 ), as well as of five chapbooks, including If You Spot Your Brother Floating By and Casbah (Kattywompus Press, 2014), Terzi's poems have appeared in a wide array of journals and anthologies. Her poetry has been read on BBC Radio 3 and nominated for a Pushcart and Best of the Net and Web. She holds an M.A. in French Literature and taught high-school French for many years, as well as French and English at California State University, Los Angeles, and in Algiers, Algeria. Read more work at sharingtabouli.com.

Headshot: Judith Terzi

Photo Credit: Staff