B.1.617.2

B.1.617.2

Two jabs, and you thought
                                  freedom.

Taken in by a different light.
Beguiled by scenery and trees
and lavender fog over
spring green grass.

It’s your face you see
in the mirror, in high street
windowpanes, gleaming,
filled with sun.

Oh, our fatal indifference.
Because it’s back. The crisis.
It’s rewriting Genesis.

Lower your eyes. We wait.
Watch the sky
for flaws. For kinks in your
reflection. It’s in our mouths.

It’s not hope that’s in the air.

Written sfor Twiglets #226 “hope rides the air” and shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter   ©Misky 2021

5 responses to “B.1.617.2”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: