PATRIOTS DAY IN THE TIME OF RUIN

The world beyond holds close beneath

the cavernous night, as

fever dreams tear through brain tissue like

the preamble to an autistic dawn.

 

Soon once hopeful true believers will awaken

with the shudder of cloistered addicts,

their sudden seclusion,

alone

a corrosive reminder that even the most deeply held habits

tally among the casualties of this pathogen’s implacable resolve.


Today, for the first time, a spectral silence will hover where footfalls

and heartbeats annually thrum with a song of life,

while boisterous onlookers whose rolling waves of

encouragement add fuel to the experience instead

remain wrapped in their own sequestered worry.

 

Ahead, vacancy abounds along the grey–lanced

thoroughfares of impending sorrows,

dogs circle, compacting places of rest,

while a hill called Heartbreak lies bare,

sharing its name, for once, with an entire route,

oblivious to the concessions of men

in this time of ruin.

 

And the days click over, and hearts

beat stronger, and hope still abides that come the

Fall we will find ourselves together again.


END

4 thoughts on “PATRIOTS DAY IN THE TIME OF RUIN

  1. Very nice poem Sir. I think that the best thing we can all do, is do some exercise, like go for a run in forest, do calisthenics on fresh air, go bicycle ride, or soon also shoot ball outside as basketball parks will be opened (at least in my Country). Godbless Sir.

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