It's Still Life

A Breath of Gratitude

Through two long years,
the lavender bloomed,
the thyme grew large
and hard, the oak trees
pulsed spring green, and
my face still behind a mask.

And it was several months
into autumn when I walked
into a supermarket, inhaled
scents of fruit instead of my
slumped breath, and gratitude
filled my lungs as if newborn.

And then a woman walked by,
coughed from a roaring depth,
her perfume scenting the air.
I was struck by urgent thought –
If I’m able to smell her perfume,
then I can catch Covid from her.

Written for Bloganuary “Fear” and Jusjojan “Gratitude” AI Digital Art is mine and created using Midjourney’s bot (v4). Image and poem ©Misky 2023 Shared on Twitter #amwriting @midjourney