As if in Florence

from The Decameron by Boccaccio, p. 50

Day was seated and ready,
to seek attention,
to protect herself with virtue most beautiful,
her reason sending some to wonder.

I recently participated in a collaborative art project by Unprecedented. In their own words, ‘Unprecedented is a public poetry project that circulates pages of The Decameron between small groups of people, one year after the COVID-19 crisis was first declared. We reflect on the solitude, urgency, travesty, and strange beauty that is now nearing becoming a thing of the past.
Each person receives a page in the mail and blacks out part of Boccaccio’s text. What’s left on the page reveals a poem.’

If you’d like to browse the returned pages or sign up to join the project, just head on over to the Unprecedented website.

Glide (with eyes open)

book page decorated with green coloured pencil and a collage that includes an astronaut.
You glide with eyes open, the weariness still afraid of deep water.

This post is about that feeling when you’re doing a little better, and you’re not sure how much you can handle, but you want to try. And you’re scared of overdoing it, making yourself worse again. This is about living with a constant fear, and blaming yourself when things go wrong, even though it is mostly out of your control. But you’re also hopeful and you want to enjoy every little gain to the fullest.