They say a swollen river of rain
has formed in the atmosphere.
It formed out in the ocean.
Plans to drop its rain right here.
They say that there’ll
be floods and slides
before the skies get clear.
They say to hunker down and wait.
It’s cold.
It’s wet.
It’s drear.
The candle’s flame is steady.
Its light is clear and true.
It stands a beacon for the world.
It burns for me and you.
Mother Nature’s had enough.
She’s getting rid of Man.
The way we’ve ravaged Mother Earth
is more than She can stand.
I’m vaxxed and I’m boosted.
My mask is in place.
My hand sanitizer is tucked
into place.
I still keep a distance
while waiting in line.
And some isolation is
suiting me fine.
I’m coping with COVID
as best as I can.
A lifetime with COVID
was NEVER my plan.
Butterflies and rainbows
and blue forget me nots.
Leprechauns and friendly folks
and other loving thoughts.
Useful days and quiet nights
and skies both clear and blue.
Hope and joy and happiness…
I send these all to you.
.
The sun peeps over the Cascade peaks,
checking out the day.
It sends its rays in ragged streaks,
deciding if it will stay.
It doesn’t.
There’s a ship in the harbor –
blazing with light.
It shifts with the tide
as it waits through the night.
I didn’t get COVID and
my neighbor got better
and our life is pretty normal on the street.
But I feel a bit chary
e’en outside in January
so I’m going to pull a mask up when we meet.
I looked for the moon in the cold night sky.
I looked for it high and low.
I looked everywhere.
But it wasn’t there.
Nowhere.
Where did it go?
OMG! Did you see the moon
hanging low in the northwest sky?
OMG! Did it lose its way
midst the planets hurtling by?
OMG! Did it make a mistake?
Did it change its course too soon?
OMG! As you came awake…
did you happen to see the moon?
