Written by Kevin Farrell

Haven’t been cutting my nails as often,

cut my own face,

she caught me chewing on a nail,

“when did you start doing that?”

Didn’t know what “that” was until it was pointed out I had a finger in my mouth.

Heard someone say something about “our time in quarantine...”

and I thought of my grandmother,

visiting her window,

talking to her on the phone,

I hear her voice.

I see her face.

Not the face I saw last,

but closer to the face I saw Christmas mornings,

the face I saw when she smiled and shook her head at some whack job bullshit I said.

“Nan, I feel like this is all a dream and I can use a remote to change the channels if I want...”

“Kevin, you can do whatever you put your mind to.”

And if I really could, I would have taken away her suffering,

but I couldn’t,

so instead I dream we are talking one last time,

I’m caught in mid conversation with what looks like myself,

I guess it’s better than biting my nails.