Saturday, August 01, 2020

Still

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES


Still

 

The air is still

Like a silence of the soul

No gentle summer breeze

To soothe our restless spirits

To comfort us with ease

 

The waves of heat bear down

To take away our breaths

We count the days by numbers

By days we count the deaths

 

The earth itself is sickened

By the state of our affairs

It’s so hard to feed the spirit

When you can’t bring yourself to care

 

The wind has howled long and hard

The rain has hammered home

The sun beats down in cries of fate

The very heavens exasperate

 

We may as well spell the wind

As wait for better days

 

The air grows still

Take comfort where you will

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