After all this

 

When all this is over I mean
to tango all summer with the

sun spangled weeping willow, rescue
from scrap heaps more mini liquor

bottles for twig arranging. I mean
to still listen, through hushed Buddhist

bells, as the dark side of the
moon whispers to me. I mean

to STAY AT HOME more, PROTECT MYSELF
from an old disease, FOMO.

March 2020