ronny

ZEUGMAS FOR ZOË

here is a poem for a friend and deadline missed—

inspired by a hurricane and heartache sweeping through the week, neither less deadly because announced—

all amid a virus and head of state threatening the nation with fever and shortness of breath—

preceded even earlier by warnings like vowels clearly sounded out— crackling forests and firecrackers a drought of rain and new ideas— so to kill the time and not ourselves

we

play piano and video games watch television and the seasons change drink wine and the doom-filled streams—

hoping we can remember our dreams when we wake up in a new bed in a new year under a new roof— the same old constellations.