Cold Gin And A Pandemic By Georgina Marie Guardado
A swig of fresh lime squeezed over ice
San Francisco’s Junipero gin with a garnish
soothes the overwhelm of more bad news
and sudden heat
What I learned at home today:
the length of estrangement becomes short
in comparison to the weight of regret
100 more days of solitude—a poet’s irony
bare white walls wait with open-hearts
to catch our sighs
how much I miss my father now that he is dead.
Toss back tonic water with an extra kick
catch the sun warming the side of my face
through the glass door into the dining room
now a reflection
of how many years have passed
how the idea of a father became a ghost
how a ghost haunted me into adulthood
how adulthood became a poem always in the works
how hard it is to live inside this one
Summary
Stay tuned for a deeper dive into this poem.
Images
