On A Beach Bench
Her toes moving sand,
Beaches empty and bland,
Seat cold and lonely,
Now occupied solely.
Yellow tape and COVID warning,
Cops all about and roving,
She braves the fleeting moment,
With just a bit of resentment.
Something here is missing,
No one is smiling or beaming,
Here she sits in loneliness,
No co-sharing the coziness.
Compelled lock-down now forced,
And social distances reinforced,
The snitch line is buzzing lively,
With sniveling souls abusively.
What is wrong with this solitude,
Observing nature with gratitude,
Not in a negative state,
Hoping the virus won’t dominate.
After the sun sets,
And the darkness onsets,
The beach bench will be vacant,
And her heart will still be defiant.
No comments:
Post a Comment