EATING BONBONS IN THE MIDDLE OF A PLAGUE

Francine Montemurro

My husband had gone to the corner for beer and bread. With supplies scarce from panic-buying, he returns with just a small paper bag. Standing in the doorway,

he pulls down his face mask and smiles, as though victory were his. Then he takes the box of bon-bons from the bag, and shakes it like maracas. He knows what I love.

We settle into the sofa by the window overlooking empty benches on empty streets. His white hair is see-through in the sun.

I close my eyes, and tip back my head.

He places a bonbon to my lips, then on my tongue. A random choice, by chance, my favorite. Dark chocolate and hazelnut.

Then he unwinds my braid, fluffs my hair,

and combs through the tangles with his fingers. Joy, he says, is everywhere, if you don’t waste time looking for it.

Francine Montemurro’s long-forgotten love of poetry was reignited in 2007 after attending her very first poetry reading: Maria Mazziotti Gillan, reading from “All that Lies Between Us.” Francine lives in Boston with her amazing husband who often critiques her poems. Her work has appeared in The Paterson Literary Review and South Florida Poetry Journal.