….
The Stories
In 1400, it was the plague.
she didn’t get lost in sickness
(fortunately) she was with
her cousins & sisters. On the
countryside away from Rome,
telling a tale every night,
keeping the living alive
and entertaining what
was still appalling in the city.
Next, she traveled to 2020
during the Pandemic
without a mask or gloves.
She got lost among the
hospital corridors & the
wall-to-wall patients on
stretchers, in beds, bursting
the sterile-seams of the
white-washed walls.
In 2022, was she sleeping
In the bed? Was she reading
The Decameron by Boccaccio?
Or staring at a painting by
Waterhouse of the plague
of 1400? The ladies and men
sitting outside playing a lute
or a horn and telling stories?
How strange, this 2024…
…How strange that she
and her husband have lived
through a flood, a fire, an
earthquake and the plague.
They have stories to tell.
This poem is from the chapbook Traveling by Ellen Rosenbloom (Finishing Line Press), and https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/traveling-by-ellen-rosenbloom/

Ellen Rosenbloom has an MFA from the New School in Poetry. She has a BS from Skidmore College in Fine Art. She lives with her favorite person, her husband Adam in New York City.