Diary of Not a Wimpy Widow

Author: kcmoyer65

  • First Blush

    White of pear
Pink of cherry 
Purple of plum
Tender green of leaves

On my window sill the wren sings
Delirious with spring

As though it were here 
For the first time.


April 13, 2019

  • What We Learned…post March 2020

    Handshakes are bad.

    Hugs are worse.

    Masks are good. (except by Mask-Deniers.)

    “Pretty mask!” is a compliment.

    PPE is essential..and there is not enough of it.

    Those marks on the floor mean to stand 6 feet apart.

    Hunkering down means stay at home. 

    Zoom is a verb, a noun, and a pronoun. 

    “You are muted” is said frequently, with a sigh.

    Covid brain fog, pandemic hair, Blursday enter the language. 

    High school graduations are drive by. 

    College freshmen launch in their bedrooms at home.

    Grocery packages are washed, and mail is quarantined.

    Large weddings and funerals are dangerous. So is choir.

    Dog rescue groups have empty shelters.

    King Arthur Flour almost doubles its sales.

    Plant seed sales hit record highs. 

    Vaccines are greeted with tears of joy. 

  • At the White House: Journal of the Plague Years

    February 22, 2021

    Five hundred thousand lost

    Amazing grace the trumpets sound

    The candles flicker

    The Marines salute

    How can we keep from weeping

  • Hugs

    February 19, 2021

    It has been almost a year since someone has hugged me. 
    Since someone wrapped me in their arms and given me a warm hug.
    A year.

    And I have been missing hugs so much
    remembering what it felt to be held that warmly
    and feeling so sad for what I have been missing 
    that the very word hug brings tears to my eyes.

    But today for the first time in a year I have thought about 
    the other side of the coin
    of what it means to give a hug

    For this past year I have not been able to receive a hug
    But also not able to give a hug
    A hug that says you are my friend
    a hug that says I know you are sad
    that change is in the wind and it is okay
    that life is wonderful, congratulations!
    that friends are all around
    that you are not alone
    All will be well
    You are loved
    I am here

  • Release

    February 11, 2021

    Roll up the sleeve
    Second jab in the arm

    Bandaid pressed down

    There’ll be bluebirds over
    The white cliffs of Dover

    Somewhere over the rainbow 
    Bluebirds fly

    Zippety Do Da
     Zippety Day

    My oh my what a wonderful Day

    You are my sunshine

    Gene Kelly and Danny Kaye
    Tap dancing with us

    Six feet apart

    Canes tapping on tile floor
    Walkers keeping time

    Masks in place

    My only sunshine

    Out the doors and into the parking lot

    We’re out of the woods we’re out of the dark

  • Inauguration

    January 20, 2021

    And so tomorrow

    I will not wake up early and check my phone

    for the latest terrible thing that has struck my country

    Doomscrolling in the dawn of each new day

    But will greet the sunrise and yawn

    And go back to sleep, the cat curled by my feet

    Secure that someone with knowledge

    Has the wheel of this ship of state.

  • To My Revolutionary Patriot Thomas Turner

    January 6, 2021

    Let me lead you Thomas Turner
    Through the marble halls of the Capitol
    The seat of our democracy
    This New Nation you helped create

    Windows have been smashed
    Blood smeared on statues
    Door jambs wrecked by metal bats
    Feces tramped on marble floors

    Not by the British who lit fires here
    In 1814

    And never by the Confederates— 
    Although their traitors’ flag paraded through these halls
    On this January 6th
    Past the portrait of Charles Sumner
    Supporter of the Union,
    Almost cane-whipped to death by a Son of the South

    But by self-proclaimed patriots
    Insurrectionists
    Seeking to overturn a national election 
    And the votes of 80 million Americans

    Blood was shed here

    Hold me in your arms oh great-grandfather
    And let me cry upon your shoulder 

  • In Place of Hugs…the Year of the Pandemic

    December 13, 2020

    the doctor cutting away the dead flesh of the skin tear

    the nurse rubbing my calf with cream and swiftly wrapping it ankle to knee

    the technician applying gel and pressing the probe hard against my veins

    the phlebotomist swabbing my arm and skillfully inserting the needle

    the hematologist patting my shoulder after listening to my lungs

    my cat gently tapping my chin after being told how beautiful he is

    Kristin Moyer

  • Early Morning Prayer

    November 22, 2020

    Not quite six o’clock.
    I lie in bed, eyes closed:

    Grateful for the rain falling on the roof
    And for the song of the sparrow outside my window,
    Grateful for the cool air I breathe in and breathe out,
    For the comfort of warm flannel sheets,
    For the cat curled into the comma of my body
    Grateful for the blood pulsing through my veins
    For my brain, stomach, heart, liver
    For all the cells and within them
    The tiny mitochondria beating out energy

    Grateful for this life.

    Kristin Moyer

  • Harbingers of Hope

    October 31st, 2020

    Zinnias

    In the neglected garden
    Amidst the tangled weeds
    The zinnias
    Late-planted and despaired of
    Lift their bright heads
    Gold and red and lemon
    Saying
    We are here! we are here!
    See! we are beautiful

    Blue Moon

    In the dark
    I look for the moon
    Clouds thick in the night
    No blue moon for me

    But clouds part
    The lustrous moon shines
    Bright and full
    Saying
    Do not give up
    I am here