Ninety-First Entry, Coronavirus Poetry Diary
venturing
onto the tree-lined street
for the first time
my old friend sings
to a songbird's melody
the smell
lingers in São Paulo's air
row upon row
of wooden grave markers
waiting for names
NeverEnding Story, July 18 2020
A Room of My Own: Normal Life, A Soap Bubble
-
my friend turns
forty the age his father died
he mutters
*the Grim Reaper haunts me*
*like my walking shadow*
breaking news
at the first light of spring daw...