COVE

All that was known is gone.
As you were sleeping,
Life went on.

The pumpkins
the frost
the flowers
all lost.

All is in a daze
As you lose track
of days.

It seems everything
Now measured
All in the past.
How long will this last?

Will there still be seasons?
Will there still be holidays,
birthdays, remembrances,
Celebrations?

It feels all hope is lost
And hands are stuck,
on clocks.

by Jenny Miller
4/29/2020