It's Still Life

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