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the night in which
the dead come alive for a while

only to be frightened
right back into their graves
by the horrible masked spectacles
of the living
when nothing seems to matter
joy or disaster
    same difference

you may want
to double-check
your priorities
I rarely go out
do not talk to many
cook my own meals
don a mask on planes and buses
and crowded supermarkets

hoping to survive Covid
uninfected
sitting up straight
     suddenly
apropos of nothing

another arrow
from reality
watching a TV broadcast
with Luciano Pavarotti
singing an aria
about a unique woman

     dedicating it to Lady Diana
     who is sitting in the first row

     a lovely and appropriate compliment

she died in the Paris car crash
not long thereafter
how does one end reigning
seventy years as Queen
of a former global colonial empire?

     elevated to the supreme icon
     of what's been right in Britain

to be sorely missed
after the most spectacular
of royal funerals has become history
Queen Elizabeth II
Great Britain's and the Commonwealth's pillar
of courage and stability
for seven decades
is no longer

she will be missed
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