TouchingCovid-19 pandemicA plague upon all our housesBut mostly poor, black, brownTaking the brunt of this epic tragedyWhile still workingWhile still uninsuredWhile still in crowded neighborhoodsHoods packed with povertyDisease and neglect.And we The whiteness of AmericaDon’t give a damnBecause it isn’t me. Rick Stepp-Bolling
Lights out back sleeper tries with eyes closedTo breathe and not listenTo his thoughts or heart beating.Instead, feel the clean of sheets still coolAnd the soft of a blanket fresh for spring temperatures, Winter things away.Then the quiet push of paws through these new layersTo find her place curled up on my breathing.Warmer now and weighted until one of us has to move.
Bonus unprompted poem that came to me when I woke up:Sleep comes so slowly that I worry it won’t come at allAnd worry brings sleep slower still.Still I wake up having slept and dreamedRidiculous things that only sleep can bring.
surprise touchI slink away yetI love you though