The word silver reaches

beyond simple shimmering


past predictable fingers

of moon


reflected on dark

river, to a place


where everything

is unexpected


and nothing is what

I had hoped


for myself, or for you

or for the bright


color itself, or for anyone

who ever anticipated



Sara Willingham


My community in Concord found new ways to connect while staying at home: sidewalk art, graduation lawn signs, window messages of hope and gratitude. During one of my daily walks, I realized I was seeing my same old neighborhood with new eyes and suddenly, the whole world burst into bloom. That day I found five whirling pinwheels in my front yard with the message, “let happiness spin … spread joy.”


This poem and others are published in “COVID Spring: Granite State Pandemic Poems,” edited by Alexandria Peary