On NPR poet Kwame Alexander asked for people to write a poem about the pandemic lockdown starting with the line “Still, I rise” from which he would compile a crowdsourced poem. My submission was not used for the final product, but I like what I wrote.
Still, I rise.
Even if my bread did not.
The bread the Internet said everyone was making.
My neighbor gave me a mother she had mothered,
But this mother learned
she did not have
to care for
(No, we will not get a puppy. Stop asking.)
No fresh sourdough, but
board games and
Shut in, shut off, shut down.
Still, I was fed.
Ideas bubbling in my head like yeast.