Quarantined Spring

There's plenty of empty Shelves and pantries The streets weep for missing feet Crowds of clouds float and gloat Mocking our lot, as they mingle and flock Oh, the lords of hoard now run the board Going by social media shifts Toilet paper's now the sought-after gift One can't use scanty panties To clean your fanny's nooks and crannies In this sparse farce The walls grow small Under the strain To remain sane Our horizons turn on spaces burned My dear, it is with love I say I can't miss you If you can't go away. 3/28/20 For 'A-Muse-Sing' poetry contest Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux