As you please

​It seems to me
​the virus is an ancient god.
​Keeping everyone awake
​and wearing pajamas.
​Sickness and foreheads wet.
No kissing, before
or after lunch.
Even the words of the poets,
moulded into pliable meanings.
And of the cheerful air?
There is a realm,
in which to remember.
A place, to learn again.
Come, let’s go.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s