Poetry

Summer Bummer, 17 (169.)

We won’t stay away from summer, and that’s
the biggest bummer of all.
Stories from history say some pandemics
stretched on for years,
with second waves, third waves,
the sickness didn’t stop.
And now the warm air in the northern hemisphere
will give the virus a clear path to us.
I get it –
I want to go out there,
and feel the heat on my skin,
and sit on grass and tree stumps
while birds pump their lungs up.
When I do take a walk,
I’ll forget parks and beaches,
and that mask
will be my best friend.
My shield.
The summer won’t get me
that easily.

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