Poetry

It is not the same.

When everyday can be treated like a Saturday

how do you know the difference?

Is this what retirement looks like?

Bored with no structure to the days?

Guess I’ll break out another puzzle.

When plague stones were needed

for the fear of farmers not wanting to get sick.

Get towns and city folks still need food to live.

Vinegar in the basin

for the coins to be dropped in.

Fished out by the farmers

who would leave the food close by

after they’d been paid.

Our homes now are things we are trapped in.

The sun still shines.

Farmers still grow food

and our money needs to be cleaned once again.

 

No classes to attend.

No appointments to fulfill.

I wonder when my next cancellation

will be added to this bill.

No wonder all my thoughts

turn round and round again.

I found out only yesterday

My wonderful seminar has already began.

Now if I was running all these classes

I would try to be in the Bahamas.

Since everything is now online

and I usually sit here in pajamas.

Jump in to the deep dark hole

Ooooooooooh oh oh

Stare in to the deep dark hole

Ooooooooooh oh oh

Bleed in to the deep dark hole

Ooooooooooh oh oh

Look in to the deep dark hole

Ooooooooooh oh oh

Nothing’s in my deep dark soul

Ooooooooooh oh oooh

I’ll sing for the deep dark hole

Oooooh oh oh

Awake

Playing on the square screen

No cares for the moment

Peaceful

Quiet

Morning rush not needed

Nature noises from outside

The smell of breakfast wafting up

Enjoy the moment

Time is precious

Gratitude changes any perspective

She is an enabler.

A bringer of chocolate.

We sit the recommended distance apart

and talk.

I so miss her hugs.

So we will do this again next week.

Sit and talk and laugh and cry.

We will remain friends

and look forward to the day we can sit next to each other again.

When you can’t leave the house

and yet there is no chocolate left

the situation seems dire.

Until you remember the cocoa powder

and look at the cake mixes

and think

that will do

but then the energy spent to do it

takes it toll

and you lie down

again

depressed and wanting chocolate.

Sirens are still going on throughout the day.

People walk their dogs

or go to work.

They are essential workers

or so they are told.

Any one going for groceries needs them.

Unless someone decides to cut their salaries

and undermines the economy

by forcing people who are desperate

to do underhanded things.

Then another siren sounds nearby.

A dilemma

of dangerous

proportions

where

a simple

decision

amplifies

the ferocious

hatred

already shown.

Reversal is not enough.

Can the damage ever be truly undone?

We are having longer winters

even the older generations feel it.

The cold lasts as the world stays white

and we dream of the blooming of the flowers.

Change is inevitable the seniors say

yet even they get scared when it happens.

Will there be a world left for our children?

Or will we see the destruction cumulate in our lifetime?

Until then I will dream of the tulips hiding under the snow

and wait for the day the lilacs bloom.