Joannie Stangeland

The New Math

My daughter pots plants in the desert.

In the desert, pandemic is elsewhere. 

Or that’s the theorem.

 
If the proof is in percentages,

I tell her to wear gloves, her hands

in the dirt in the desert nursery,

 
her hands cradling succulents

into the soil. From the north

we send our hearts


and our warnings. In the north

I watch and try not to watch

the death count rising
 

exponentially. I count on hope, 

square my worry with my wellness

I send to the desert where
 

my daughter nurses chicks and hens

for people who come to shop.

Because her boss grows a quotient
 

of carrots and beans, his business

becomes essential, and I tell 

my essential daughter
 

to say, softly, with kindness, 

Six feet, please. I tell her

six feet is the distance of love.

Also Posted on https://www.pangyrus.com/poetry/the-new-math/