Beneath the iron gauze of sky
rain ticks against the windows.
There's an uncharted rhythm to life now,
no longer are there schedules.
No shopping, restaurants, plays.
No parties, weddings, funerals,
just hours of endless, elusive time.
Obliged to follow stay-at-home orders,
this place of isolation has become her refuge.
Her little house overflows with memories;
each room, every corner
becomes a welcome escape from reality.
3 comments:
I'm feeling this. Thanks, Marianne.
Very well written and described, Marianne.
Love,
Pammy
We are finding sanctuary in the only place we really own. As Sherry would say, this is a Heart to Heart piece. Thank you, Marianne...
Elizabeth
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