Frank Learns to Juggle During Quarantine
Shevaun Brannigan
I.
His hands are pinball flippers.
We’re going crazy in here.
The juggling balls pop
from his palm to the air,
to palm, to palm.
I assign them their symbols.
One ball will be fear.
The second will be love.
The last, persistence.
The persistence of love,
the love of fear,
the fear of persistence,
the unknown, to be caught
or to catch, so much up in the air,
fear is in the air,
Frank holds love,
Frank holds persistence.
II.
I have dropped love,
woken up and found it
in bed beside me.
The beautiful face
he wears sleeping.
I have gripped fear, I have lost
persistence, saw it roll
under the couch and let it go.
The quarantine continues on
despite me.
I watch him juggle,
I watch him cope.
My love, tossing
an easy ball
caught neat in his palm.
I loop the mask around my ears.
III.
The beautiful face
he wears sleeping;
outdoors, he winks, mask-mouthed,
the fabric sucks in
as he holds his breath,
juggling for the little boy
who stands
so far away.