Trespassing Virus

Pious observation of my private property ought to keep it beyond the sign 'all strangers are welcome' which was put on in four languages before the rampage. Does it speak English and should I try sign language? Drifting further from my mind, desperate, out of breath, is the sign of God that pointed me to the righteous path, lost in the fog of moment, the labyrinthine disconnections and the void in between. Tonight my faith is sleeping alone, yet something is grabbing its attention, my need to keep it close something warm to grab and keep going with my epic struggle to put up a new sign on my lawn: Coronavirus Not Welcome. Fugitive thoughts cancel out fear.