...and they are singing from windowsills
...and they are singing from windowsills,
writing isolation diaries,
flies in the first season twelve days in
call it the twelfth episode of doing nothing,
our part is not deemed essential but we are still doing something.
social distancing to sheltering in place.
I look up the etymology of the word quarantine.
hands washing hands, all the jokes written on toilet paper drained
hoarding the wrong things, gouging
and they are talking about how they will dance once this is over.
he cooks, I clean. Instagram calls it jail with alcohol
but everybody’s house will be cleaner.
a natal boom or do we deem nature’s rebellion an antinatal reckoning
as parasites on the planet?
daughters work from home and I think about the sons.
workouts run into meditations,
seasons canceled and no march madness, no Olympics.
crafters, puzzlers, and gamers return to doing the rote
with one nagging thought, one after coronavirus question
...what will the world look like when this is over?
time scrambles first responders searching for medical supplies.
technologists, innovators, and entrepreneurs
run to these helpers but sometimes Elons need to get out of the way!
put down all devices and walk...walk without purpose. Saunter!
stroll, read your Shakespeare sonnet for the day,
Balthasar’s art of worldly wisdom. first, they downplayed the virus
then focus on it for 10 days, shelter in place and flatten the curve!
then it is, take a chance. grandma, you might survive...
cruise ships are known Petri dishes presenting a case study,
the CDC says this Covid-19, this coronavirus lives on surfaces for 17 days.
I go out and the air is so clear. near the sea, it is always fresh
but the night air seems more oxygenated,
filled with vitality, life.
dolphins in the canals and the wild mustangs rustle...
I return to concentrate on the laundry,
menial tasks distract when you can’t wave a wand and fix the macro.
imagine every soul on the planet in this together,
humbling stardust sharing this moment in history.
the last news story for today is about party zero,
a swanky soiree in Westport that became a super spreader.
the nouveau gilded age of connectedness and travel
infected partygoers...faire la bise! kissing cheeks and shaking hands,
seeding the world at lightning speed.
think in terms of hot spots because everywhere you think this virus is it is ahead of you.
talk of senicide and the horrific ethical dilemmas of triage playing out.
what will life be like after coronavirus? what disaster capitalism will change systems?
another crisis in democracy, another pandemic and I wonder which way will it move us.
a touchstone of renewals as we shelter in place. reading,
reading a favorite poet writing about saving one ant while staying distant,
finding something in doing nothing.
hope, in that it is mutating slowly!
the beauty in little things. the grace of this passed down in the DNA.
the beauty in small gestures and slowing down to come together.
tomorrow the world caught up to me in my pajamas in a strange zoom
sharing a group spirit day. I think what a long year this week has been.
...all this before the end of the day prayers.
