We didn’t ask to be the part of history,
Yet we are here
Locked in, lockdown
My four walls bury me six feet deep
My restless heart swimming
Through a reverie of roses, tulips and lilies,
Apple pies and bee stings and smell
Of fresh cut grass and dust after rain,
Mountains crashing into the sky,
A thousand songs of the summer breeze
And the foam that lives on waves,
A turquoise dream. But I can’t sleep
My restless mind keeps thinking
Of fevers, coughs, and aching lungs
And the time that’s stolen, frozen, melting
Into the palm of my hand
But I release it and quivering wings
Flutter away, slowly but surely
I breathe in the silence and it fills me
Like a balloon
Stretched out in the endless days
Endless night sprawling before me
Has a month ever felt this long?
Condensed time
Four walls of past, present, future, history
Here we are.