Our dreams strewn across barren land —
fractured communities, little love, who are we?
We dissolve into bitterness, this virus feasts —
its appetite leaves despair.
(Only a biologic phenomenon, yet I take it personally)
Some days, I only feel disillusion of the soul
that yearns for bear hugs, game nights, Nana’s pecan pie.
Masked cheeks give away strangers’ smiles.
Here we are, looking for ripe avocados, together.
Silent gratitude for a moment shared.
We feel this ache, this suffering.
We are each other.
Image credit: Schanzengraben (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) by maekke
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