Judy Melchiorre is a poet who resides in Richmond VA. She is a member of River City Poets, James River Writers, Poetry Society of Virginia, and Poetry Society of New York. Judy’s work appears in Streetlight Magazine, Poetry Quarterly, and two anthologies. She also is the co-editor of the River City Poets Anthology, Lingering in the Margins, published in April 2019. She is sometimes a substitute teacher for high school students. She lives with her husband, two snuggly dogs and one sassy cat.

In the slipstream

In the slipstream of virus, like a fish netted,
tossed on dock, gills quivering…

Newly-inked college diploma, verge
of Second Great Depression, death
stalks his Brooklyn neighborhood—

Close buddy on ventilator, pressing
hand to plexiglass, he mouths word,
corners trembling.
Snaking through streets, others brush
past, six-feet aside, almost home—
he and Pop exchange elbow-bumps
for traditional handshake,
dance with Mom, arms extended,
fingertips close to touch.
He warns “be safe;”
they nod, “yes, son,” they promise.
His brows notch closer, questions
chase doubts.

On the fly—
from clogs and cogs
& hacking coughs,
cloth conceals yet
eyes reflect fear,
subway ghost-riders
echo Times Square,
smog-muck masks
skyscrapers.

Rhythm
of unoiled ligaments
clatter bang cross tracks
movement morphs into lullaby
dreams…

A wider space
night-clotted sky,
waves of other ocean
breathe in his ears,
calm his juddering mind
right-coast neuroses
frenetic pace.
A new direction.

la paraluie*

Inside out,
the umbrella

captures plump
drops of rain,

collects them
like the change

clinking
in the devotion

box for votive
candles,

prayers to God,
from the unlucky

gamblers, hoping
for protection

from the storm

*la parapluie, from the French, umbrella.