A Haircut!
A haircut today – my Wolfman look is shorn
The virus-time follicles set to rights
Follies and follicles, the locks of lockdown
A-tumbling down in coarse, unseemly waves…
A haircut today – my Wolfman look is shorn
The virus-time follicles set to rights
Follies and follicles, the locks of lockdown
A-tumbling down in coarse, unseemly waves…
This is the only thing normal today:
A tornado watch on a Sunday in spring
I have shifted those famous Loose Objects
Into secure areas as best I could…
Drag those hoses when the weather is dry
April’s grass is paling, and oak leaves wither
All the new plantings cry for a drink of water
And the rains of winter have now retired…
Thank you for reading us Shakespeare each day –
Sonnets from your balcony and from the stairs
Smooth flowing iambics from all your chairs
Precise pentameter to smooth the way…
We cannot volunteer in prison now
The grids and grills that shut the prisoners in
Now serve to shut most everyone else out
And bars now bar us from teaching each other
I search for God within my books
Just as I scan the sky for Him…
An old man with a dog and oxygen tank
Steers his duct-taped golf cart to the café
For the morning liturgy at his corner seat
The vinyl cathedra where he presides in state…
Holy Saturday in the Virus-Time
Sure, there are empty churches, but…
The waxing moon knows nothing of Holy Week
And stars care nothing for sacred liturgies
Nor do the fireflies flitting among the trees
And ‘round the darkening lawn as evening falls…
The deep blue spiderwort – she does not know
An epidemic now has been declared
And all the world beyond her cobalt glow
Has found itself panicked and unprepared…
No excuses, of course: we must get dressed
If death itself appears at the front door
We would not want to be caught in our ‘jammies
Or in surrender flaked upon the couch…