The second day I thought would be
Easier than the first, of the days the plague
Did hide my childe away
But on the second day she says what she
On the first day didn’t say
As she stuffs her pajamas in the plastic bag
In which we keepeth fast the death
That settles on her clothing while she sleeps
Beside the bag for food
Trash— once, I held a napkin underneath
Her nose because I could-
n’t tell if she was breathing, oh the white sail leaps
And flutters in the living wind
And now I am afraid to let her leave
Her room. It leaps, the white
Sail, flutters gently down, that then is pinned
In place by the wind. As quiet-
ly as I could, I held it there, I didn’t breathe