New Poetry by Nina Rubinstein Alonso

Just what I need in plague season

Dead crow on my fender

parked here barely ten minutes 

likely fell from that crab-apple’s wide 

branches stretching across the sidewalk

scattering blossoms and a funeral bird

just what I need in plague season

first glance looks like clotted fabric

or rain-soaked flowers blown down by

sudden gusts but it’s an innocent 

black bird on my rain-splattered car

dustpan slides this feathered soul

into a trash barrel while I shiver

inside my rain-soaked jacket 

see other fear-masked soggy humans

mailing bills with nervous gloved hands

feel the vibration of pandemic fire

silent invisible messenger   

threatening sickness and death   

though gloomy discouraged lonely

I’m here for whatever 

incomprehensible reasons

a cranky being walking

around sad-singing alive.

- © Nina Rubinstein Alonso 2022

Nina Rubinstein Alonso’s work has appeared in Ploughshares, The New Yorker, Ibbetson Street, Bluepepper, Writing in a Woman’s Voice, Broadkill Review, etc. Her book This Body was published by David Godine Press, her chapbook Riot Wake is upcoming from Cervena Barva Press, and a poetry collection about travel in Spain is in the works.