Back then, everyone was frozen in time.
Not one person lined up for coffee or sat at an outdoor café.
Schools were closed.
Playgrounds empty.
No one passed in the passing lane.
No jets. The sky was for the birds.
Shall I sing my song of grief
to a reggae beat, dance
before Bluetooth speakers
on one foot, the long story
of a wack job
and keep it short and sweet?
Why worry the children
when it’s our place
to hold everything together
like a bond that comes into maturity.
They’ll figure it out
in the next fifty.
Bonds.
Ties that bind.
Things that never go away
or disappear into some outer space
where there is a dark pittance.