Tin cups
rattle steel bars
no birds
no bees
no sounds of cars
on open freeway
far and wide
chains and manacles
stuck inside
a makeshift shiv
of broken picture frame
wrapped in leather
oiled in soap
each passing day
diminishes hope
until I can't
take anymore
I carve each day
on my front door
Cabin fever is starting to drive me nuts. I only get to leave the house to do response work so it's either cooped up or terrified. What a great year 2020 is shaping up to be.