march

2020 (covid chronicles)

there was a time when you were small
when the world went quiet 
for awhile

when the schools went cold, papers left askew 
on a Thursday
and the planes idled, rooted oddly to the asphalt
the playgrounds rung silent in the near-dew of spring
and the restaurants hollowed, servers slumped against the wall
when the offices closed, all the workers slowing down at the very same time
like an unplanned Christmas
and the colleges ended their year abruptly, untested
when the dust settled on the baseball fields, entirely undisturbed
and the stadiums adopted an apocalyptic kind of calm
and the lights just seemed to switch off one city
then state
then country 
at a time
even on Broadway
the news was endless and escalating 
sewing seeds of panic which they watered daily 
in the stores, the aisles ran dry of all perishable things

and we felt very much like perishable things

and home was a refuge
but fear was just outside
and we tried to protect you inside these four walls
explain all the no’s and no more’s 
without opening that door

and then we were left to our own devices 
home-bound, lazing
with everything canceled and nowhere to go
awaiting, contemplating the inevitable spread

and observing the unnatural quiet 
when all that’s meant to be in motion 
suddenly became quite
still