During this frantic
yet doleful week,
oppressed by the illness
in our desperate world,
I turn to my home
and the warmth within —
indeed, doing exactly
as we’re told: staying in.
Moment to moment
perceptions change.
Just at present it seems
easier on the inside.
The melancholy rain
and the wind’s rage
make home a sanctuary
rather than a cage.
I’m liking my couch,
my books, my TV,
good food when I need it,
and comfortable clothes.
I talk to my friends
by video or phone,
facebook or email —
I am not alone.
The moody moon
cannot be seen
in our southern skies;
it’s thick dark out there.
But I pour myself a nip
of Stone’s Green Ginger Wine.
settle into my slippers,
and decide I’m just fine.
This poem is doing double duty for Sanaa’s prompt, Pathetic Fallacy, in Weekly Scribblings #14 at Poets and Storytellers United, and also Sanaa’s prompt, L’Arora, for April 2020 day 8 at ‘imaginary garden with real toads’.