Let’s sing out this year that has nearly expired us
To ward off inbound solstice gloom.
Having reaped our harvests of squash and virus,
Let’s harmonize, remotely, on Zoom.
No; let’s make this song do some conjuring.
Let’s sing up
more blue skies for Delhi,
a clean turtle island,
a newborn queen,
(a washboard instead of this belly.)
Let’s belt
hella ballgames
to stadiums full,
Then be quiet while eelgrass and birds teach us
wilderness tunes to leave gravity’s pull,
queer lofty refrains without words.
Let’s yodel and yarn now and yammer all winter.
Write repair-songs for rifts made by tweet.
Come next fall may we all remove covid’s splinter
And together, with families complete,
Together with loved ones: sing sweet!
Dec 2020 Jen Mahoney
