The awful death toll’s trending down –
a thousand a day this week.
The loss of life is staggering,
but well below our peak.
Yet mockers frolic in the sun
and flaunt civility
and dance on Florida’s beaches
while they shout of Me! Me! Me!
The awful death toll’s trending down –
a thousand a day this week.
The loss of life is staggering,
but well below our peak.
Yet mockers frolic in the sun
and flaunt civility
and dance on Florida’s beaches
while they shout of Me! Me! Me!
I have a candle burning
with a clear and steady flame.
The light cuts through the darkness.
It’s burning in your name.
Google knows when it will rain
to water our spring time flowers.
She knows when there’ll be cloudy skies
or thunderstorms or showers.
But when I ask about the Sun –
her answer is short and pat.
She answers sweet and cheerily:
“I haven’t been programmed for that.”
Google’s voice is friendly–
sounds like chocolate and flowers.
She always ends her forecast:
“And tomorrow there’ll be showers.”
There’s an Area Code called 564.
My brain can’t stand this any more.
My brain has much too much to do.
Now we’re running out of numbers, too!
I don’t like to do the dishes.
I don’t like most any chore.
When I hit the Lott’ry
I won’t do them anymore.
Some businesses are opening.
Some kids are going to school.
Distancing and facial masks
are still the COVID rule.
It’s been a long, long year of stress.
Folks are taking it slow.
As for me, the Beauty Salon
is the very first place I’ll go.
The vaccine pace keeps going up.
The death rate’s inching lower.
The virus still is raging
but the reach of death is slower.
Guide me in my steps today
that I might do my best.
Sooth and comfort me tonight
and help my soul find rest.
My kitty came to sleep with me
up back on my easy chair.
It’s rather pleasant company
to hear her purring there.