This is what it’s like (a poem)

I promised myself I wasn’t going to write a(nother) coronavirus poem, but the NaPoWriMo early-bird prompts today all seem to want poems about (or somehow referring to) birds. So much for promises…

Opening the curtains
to greet the new day.

Looking out
at the world going by,

at the sun and the clouds
as they cross the sky,

at the neighbors walking their dogs
or going to the mailbox,

at the car turning at the corner,
kicking up a few rocks.

Sunlight, but no heat.
Rainfall, but no rain.

Yesterday and today
happening again.

Turning around
in the same old space,

the same four walls
in the same old place.

Every bird is caged now.

(31 March 2020)




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