And in the midst of it all, you sit.
not that there are not things to do.
There are, even now.
But why waste the moment,
the gift of time and pleasure,
no matter how enforced,
and simply let your soul settle, to remember
who you are, and why, and whether
it who you wish to remain.
About this poem
I am actually enjoying parts of this time of quarantine. Reflection suits me.
This began as a long poem. It’s way better short.