Corona Carnage

This pandemic

has taken peace

(however much of it we had)

and put in its place

a constant, unrelenting

pain,

— somehow shockingly swift

and sadistically slow —

creating a sort of global wartime,

that makes us yearn for

the things of comfort:

a mother’s embrace,

a lover’s touch,

a child’s messy kiss,

and corona,

this cruel, ironic burden,

has made those

the very weapons of its war.

(where do we find

rest

when the war is in

our homes?)