Self imposed quarentine,
like on the field without your team,
fifteen feet at least apart,
a built bonfire without a spark.

Sickness killing a small percent,
changing our lives without consent,
the end of the world as we know it,
as we're trapped at home and just sit.

Paper goods and food hoarded,
by everyone who could afford it,
education cancelled or forced online,
**** I need a glass of wine.

Whiskey probably would be better,
if your infected, wear a scarlet letter,
hope and pray for 14 days,
that once again you'll see sun rays.

I guess will see how life exists,
on the other side of this,
I feel assured it won't be the same,
I guess that's how you play this game

Upon the moving of our friends,
it felt like this era should never end,
the hanging out and stupid jokes,
the various liquors mixed with coke.

The road trips with music up loud,
picking out creatures in the clouds
weekday dinners for no reason
hunting together in deer season.

Guys and girls trips full of fun,
sunday's with kids and lots of guns,
building things projects galore,
who could ask for any more?

Then it all came to an end,
will our hearts ever mend,
miles and states now stretch between,
if only we had a teleport machine.

Sitting here sand in my crack,
in my RTIC coke and black jack,
rod and reel bounces in pvc,
waiting on tides to change the sea.

Flip flops, with bottle opener underneath,
you know the ones made by Reef,
yee yee cap shading the sun,
days on the beach are loaded with fun.

Costa lenses tinted green,
polarized to cut the sheen,
sun rays reflected off tanned tone skin,
I wish this is the place I was in.

Alas, I'm here at home, daydream,
COVID 19 has me quarantined,
I sit and sit, all projects complete,
hoping for the virus to retreat.

Where the blooming trees do shade,
I had a glass of lemonade,
a waitress came, the ocean breeze blew,
the smells all arrived all anew.

Sweet florals and frying fish,
bread, garlic oil swirled in a dish,
table cloths fluttering, never still,
fresh pie sitting in the sill.

Potted plants and red backed seats,
honey bees working without defeat,
giggles from girls, one table over,
a cat sitting, sunning, with golden fur.

Little songbirds set the tone,
I enjoy sitting here alone,
surrounded by this life-full scene,
all of it feels simply serene.

Is COVID the end
of handshakes and hugs,
will we all work from home,
naked and sitting on the rug?

No more Mexican beer
with salt and lime,
because we are afraid,
and remember the time?

Will restaurants reopen,
for a sit-down meal,
or did we discover,
that pick up is the deal?

I may never go inside,
another big box store,
picking up here,
killed a grocery shopping chore.

Will schools reopen,
as brick and mortar places,
or will teachers and students,
just know webcam faces?

The great lockdown,
will be remembered as the years go,
how did it change us,
just have to wait and see how so.

Hearing the busy tone of life,
beeping beeping, giving strife,
I tried to call, but no one answered.
my hair stuck down, with sweat plastered.

The nerves rise with pins and needles,
the world is full of good and evil,
the winds of change, with hurricane-force,
have me standing on the porch.

I hold on gripping the cast iron rail,
now listening to the virus hail,
it bounces off and ricochets,
like fired from a trebuchet.

I see a crack inside the storm,
hopefully, itself destroyed and torn,
a beam of light, horizons of dream
the sun's heat begins to steam.

Life on hold, nerves now bare
like a dragon not leaving the lair,
hoarding my treasures all alone,
hoping to hear the ringing phone.

Roosters and swampy leaches,
always attacking the Georgia peaches,
darkened chasms oozing stench,
trying to control the velvet trench.

Leering eyes stare out at mountains,
saliva drools, like Trevi fountain,
imaginations in overdrive,
thinking about creating lives.

In the sty, squealing lies,
as the fairer fire fries,
in the grease, they exuded,
and the things, which they alluded.