While We Recover

In quarantine, the Forget-Me-Nots

blossom a grey-fade

as a quiet slow fills

the empty ravines of city streets.

Alone in a canyon, a voice will echo—

a voice will find its chorus:

Meanwhile in Italy, isolation has brought

people together, singing from their balconies.

Adaptability becomes

our survival —

the window

cracked open, beckoning

the early spring morning

breeze inside.