2020
A quarter of the year
gone,
Leaving a wake of tsunami drenching
Fear
A hooded wanderer
Puddling over infectious thought
A mystery
Invisible,
With viral roots that are sprouting like fresh weeds
Into the cluttered minds of resting workers,
A vision of yesterday
Shattering like glass
Yet
I’m watching it from the solitude of my room
Knowing my light has grown dimmer
And that as the new world unfolds
My lantern will find the way home.
Copyright © Kathryn Sweeney | Year Posted 2020
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