This year I love it differently

I have always loved this poem.
This year I love it differently.

Mary Conway – 2020-04-01

This was sent during the earliest days of social distancing amidst the COVID-19 pandemic to me by my sister Mary. She included the following poem:

Even though I’d never encountered this poem before, even when reading it at the time ― within the context of this strange new reality at the beginning of the pandemic ― I also knew that I loved it differently than I would have even a month earlier.

At the time my response was to tell her that she should also write a poem, but one titled: This year I love it differently. I don’t think she has yet so I’m still waiting.

I also felt the urge to contemplate artistically the reality that for most forms of art it is not the art that changes, but ourselves. This is not a unique observation, but a very human one that is always surprising and enthralling.

Now nearly 4 years on, no meaningful end to the pandemic in sight, I “love it differently” still, and again, and anew.


It’s now 9 months after I wrote the above draft and didn’t finish posting it.


It’s now long after that. I suppose it’s time to post the post. I still love it differently.

Comments

One response to “This year I love it differently”

  1. Kyle R. Conway Avatar

    @K_REY_C@kylerconway.com I truly do love it differently again, and I still think she should write that poem.