A New Poem: Social Distancing & What’s Left Of It—

SOCIAL DISTANCE
& WHAT’S LEFT

I look out my windows, check
social media, more often
than I should, & wonder where
the parked cars
have gone, also too often, question
if there is somewhere I could have gone,
too. Out there, I know, someone
is sleeping, more snow falling
in one night than in the rest
of the season
combined—perhaps fitting
to this thing that makes us
unable to walk
amongst
ourselves, our bodies now
so far apart, even
our shadows, elongated by noon,
unable to touch. What a time it is
to be alive—the bees, restless
in their sleep, flowers budding
& more pollen, calling
more snow to cover
it up, an inversion of crows,
spreading their wings to cover
what’s left of the world. So few outside
to enjoy it with, so few out there
with me to witness
the sun coming back down,
its orange light falling
on newly-hung birdseed-covered
pinecones.

&

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