There Are Days (My Coronavirus Diaries, Installment #17)

June 16, 2020

When I can’t keep up with time
because my clocks are out of rhyme.

The cell phone makes me think it is
two minutes later than
the analog wall clock and
the cable box clock,
while the kitchen stove clock
is two minutes slower than
the rest, And the car clock,
two minutes faster still.

There Are Days

When I am asked to shine,
Giving what I can of my mind.

What problems can I solve?
What opinions can I share?
What do I think,
What do I dream,
What do I dare?
So, I share.
Dispensing words of
wisdom, absolution,
convolution, and despair.
Until I’m ripping at
what’s left of my hair,
gasping for air.

There Are Days

When my body says “Enough”
and shuts down, for a time, to sleep.

From four AM to nine,
My body is at rest,
But my brain is still
on a quest to wrestle
with the previous day.
All the fears I dispelled,
All the confidence I showed,
All the faux pas and bluster
and pain
come back to haunt
and to mock
and to blame.
Until my eyes pop open
to a room still darkened
with blinds still drawn and closed.
And I peek at the clocks
In dismay, to find
Another eight hours have passed.

There Are Days

When all I want is to leave this place
and reach up, like these trees,
to the sky.

4 thoughts on “There Are Days (My Coronavirus Diaries, Installment #17)

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