A poem is born of a peapod
pierced by a nail. The shell secretes tears.
An eye grows on crooked thumb
seeds go asunder slipping through fingers
a slimy worm wriggles in mind
a caterpillar is born of the pen
powdery syllables settle on wings
a butterfly mates with o's and a's
impregnating a rhyme.

1 June 2020

Life sways in gasps
a breath struggles
over sagging phone waves.
The words I send trip off
the line stretching two ends
swinging high above the valley.
I speak floating in clouds
the voice may reach you
over quivering cable
wait, let me die,
'Don't disconnect.'

'Don't disconnect' - last words on an Italian youth to his beloved from his hospital bed using a doctor's phone

Captive
in a windowless world.


CoVid times - 18

Life sways in gasps
a breath struggles
over sagging phone waves.
The words I send trip
the line stretching two ends
swinging high above the valley.
I speak floating in clouds
the voice rebounds
over quivering cable
wait, let me die,
'Don't disconnect.'

'Don't disconnect' - last words on an Italian youth to his beloved.


CoVid times - 17

Opening and shutting
the balcony door,
I announce 'Honey, I am home'.


in Lockdown - Covid times 16

A visitor,
will soon be a rare event.
Exciting yet unnerving.

<garbage collector rang the bell>


CoVide times - 15

How silent is the street
I fear
there's no one living anywhere



CoVide times - 14