Monday, July 6, 2020

What’s this? Where is this
strange place I’ve gone?
So much flatness and grey.

The work is the same, the pen
between my fingers, the keys
and the screen. The seltzer
bubbles popping on my tongue.

This cushy chair holds me closer
and extends its arms for me.
But I miss the ease of your reach,
mid-day dishes and candlelight,
the warmth and the wood.