Corona
by Michael R. Burch

There was a moment
  without the sound of trumpets or a shining light,
    but with only silence and darkness and a cool mist
      felt more than seen.
      I was eighteen,
    my heart pounding wildly within me like a fist.
  Expectation hung like a cry in the night,
and your eyes shone like the corona of a comet.

There was an instant . . .
  without words, but with a deeper communion,
    as clothing first, then inhibitions fell;
      liquidly our lips met
      —feverish, wet—
    forgotten, the tales of heaven and hell,
  in the immediacy of our fumbling union . . .
when the rest of the world became distant.

Then the only light was the moon on the rise,
and the only sound, the communion of sighs.

With all the understandable gloom, doom and despair over the coronavirus, I was reminded of this early poem of mine that used the term "corona" in a much more positive light. I wrote this poem around age 18 and it has been published by Grassroots Poetry and Poetry Webring. Keywords/Tags: Corona, coronavirus, touch, union, communion, sighs, expectation, unity, trumpets, heart, pounding, ***, arousal, union, ecstasy, consummation, consecration, omen, comet, shooting star, talisman, moonrise, moon rising

Then again, what do you expect from a shaking ground?
Peace is obliviously out of question.
It left me with ruins and wound
And an empty confession

why do anything if it will fall short of perfection?
i have a reputation, after all
and ive been dragging its corpse with me
for a long long time
the weary old corpse of when the sun still shined
and i had dared to be brighter

I sat on the floor, burdened and heavy
With expectations all wrapped around me
The future should be bright to me
But now darkness is all that I see

Well I got what I wanted
And you're talking
Just what I expected
I'm cut wide open
Emoting
With no emotion
That's right
That's how I'm coping