Caught in a sudden nasty squall on Puget Sound,
we had no choice but to ride it out, our 16 ft runabout
nearly swamping in every gray swell. Years later,
-we hung on in a basement’s southwest corner as
winds whipped our Midwest town to shreds.

This time it’s going to be a harder trial, a much longer
trek, a slog against an enemy without sound or sign.
A blind and nervy war.

Yet – who hasn’t faced their own personal quarantine?
A bed-rest pregnancy, a chemo sequestration.
Months separated for work, or military mission.
Days to weeks to months apart, given to a larger thing,
self-imposed, self-accepted, all for a greater goal.

We know how to meet this test of patience; with
patient trials, and calm resolve. This is no shrieking
summer storm but a long sober season that must wend
its darkest course. For us, it’s recouping time, mending
time for harness and traces, to right our wheels and
saddle up, to strap on spurs for the tough trail ahead.

Yvette Viets Flaten, writes short stories and long historical fiction, but it is in poetry that she finds a deep and resonating voice. Her poetry has appeared in numerous journals, including the Midwest Review, Red Cedar Review, Barstow and Grand, as well as many Wisconsin Poets’ Calendars. She was recently interviewed on The Writer’s Almanac as part of Garrison Keillor’s Pandemic Poetry Contest. Her poem, ‘Riding it out,’ was one of 10 winners. Click here for more by and about Yvette.