HIS NAME
A woman on the street calls him “Marshmallow–”
she clearly eats too many “sweets.”
A stranger at the park calls “Snowball!”
Turns out he’s from Minnesota.
“Cotton Ball!” simpers a beauty queen at a café,
who clearly uses one to take off the makeup on her face;
“Fluffy Lamb,” snorts an actor from Scotland–
he grew up on a farm.
Most people call him “Fluffy!”
Children. Adults.
People like fluff,
don’t like to think too much
(and my dog is so deep).
We all wear our own Rorschach glasses,
like to name things,
as if it helps us get a handle on
miracles.
—Jane Marla Robbins
From: Dogs in Topanga 2000-2018
COVID-19
i
The sun doesn’t know
there’s a coronavirus.
He shows up daily –
not burning, but smiling,
warming.
If you listen, he tells you
he’ll be here tomorrow
and next week
and a thousand years from now.
ii
The mustard flowers on the side of the road
don’t know about it.
It’s only early March and still, a few showers
and they’ve rushed out like an army.
They only wash their hands
of all the panic
and wait for rain.
iii
My neighbors’ bougainvillea flowers
only know the brilliant fuchsia of their faces
which shine in sunlight, mirrors
of our own amazing light.
—Jane Marla Robbins