Far from the noise of the mortal,

quietly under the eaves,

I see an exotic world of movement

that stimulates my nostalgia, and

phalaenopsis stretch the room,

nourished by the heat of the sun

as slim daffodils flaunt their charm,

and their light fragrance fills the air.  

 Far from the window and the daffodils, 

sits a football in the corner with scars

waiting to get back on the battlefield.

A lone bicycle, covered with dust,

waits for the hands of the wind.

A vibrant scene just outside my window

as rich as my memory 

of a year ago

when I wasn’t missing 

the undeniable joys of living. 

Why has this pandemic descended upon us

When will it loosen its crippling grasp

Will life return to a recognizable fashion

Will we be plagued like this again