By Steve Grogan
My window gives me a view
Yet keeps everyone isolated
So I can only guess what’s new
And what people are thinking
We remember friends’ caresses
Now can only dream of this
Memories keep me tortured
But at the same time it is bliss
Mounatains still look good
And buds still form on trees
As we sit here slowly dying
From quarantine not covid-19
Before this, life was hit or miss
Now it’s just a miss with no hit
Strange times keep churning
Don’t think we’ll ever get over it
…..depression is tucked away and never exposed
…..like shadows inside a gun barrel then explodes.
My name is Steve Grogan I live in Wallkill, New York. I have two children. I love golf and writing. I am recently retired.
I really enjoyed this insight into how some people may or may not be coping. I think the words ‘slowly dying from quarantine not Covid 19’ are truly how people feel. Thank you.
Literally one of the best poets in the world, very talented, creative and came up with the best lines to truly express what it’s like to be in quarantine absolutely amazing 🙂
You’re probably a little biased but that’s ok thanks Jill.
Steve,
The stark, visceral nature of this highly relevant poem is intense and grabs the reader with an unexpected ending, despite the lead up. Well done!
Robert Milby Florida, NY
Thank you Robert I appreciate your review👍