What Rough Beast | Covid-19 Edition | 04 01 20 | Amanda Held

Amanda Held
Plague

The silence was too scary.
Not even the birds and crickets
sang. I became frustrated with
living in fear. Wrapped in a
blanket of sorrow, I began

to cry until my tears were gone.
The only sounds I heard were
my breathing and heartbeat.
I decided I made my own fate
then, but it was just impossible

to have enough energy to
laugh uncontrollably as I once
did, chest heaving up and
down heartily as my eyes
would form tears of joy. Rising

and fading as I was, I found
comfort in the air, in breaths,
in the fresh smell of rain as a
thunderstorm rolled in, the
first of this spring, powerful

and unyielding. Despite the
state of the world around it,
the storm carried on, knowing
the trees would bow, the sun
would set, and the people

would watch as they had, time
after time. And even so, the
constant of change was familiar.
I could still see the branches
on the trees swaying. I could
still feel the cool of the air in

my lungs. And as I sat in the
moment, mindful of my
surroundings, the fear of the
world no longer plagued me.

Amanda Held is a midwest native poet. She earned her BA in writing from Carroll University in 2014. Her poems have appeared in The Barefoot Review and Century Magazine. In her free time, Amanda enjoys playing board games, spending time in nature, and playing with her tiny cat son.

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