Holy, holy, holy in mid-March 2020

after “Footnote to Howl” by Allen Ginsberg



Holy the anxious thoughts! Holy desire and defeat!
Holy the breastplate thighbone spine and larynx!
Holy the T-cells and all their relations! Holy the fur inside our windpipes!
Holy the sun and the rain! Holy the sleepers!
Holy the wakeful ones, creative or desperate!
Holy the virus! Holy the helpers! Holy the people isolated!
Holy the delivery drivers! Holy the post-office workers!
Holy the air sighing relief! Holy the persistent buses!
Holy the buds, undeterred! Holy the snowfall of petals!
Holy patience! kindness! invention and contemplation!
Holy new time! focus! effort and energy!

Born in Michigan under the first full moon of 1979, Moira Walsh has lived and worked on three continents — as a farmhand, baker, receptionist, cleaner, support person, and performing artist. She currently freelances as a translator and copywriter in southern Germany. In 2020, Moira’s poems and poetic collaborations appeared in Denver Quarterly, Waxing & Waning, Hummingbird: Magazine of the Short Poem, and elsewhere. In 2021, Moira will be featured in three issues of You can read more of her work here.