Each day it sinks in deeper what a mess
we’ve made, how serious pandemic is:
the overturning market, local biz
beset or forced to close. We cannot guess
a timeline – lacking data we confess
we’re almost clueless. Theories fade or fizz
in isolation toward a desperate quiz,
while losing ground to politics and stress.

At least I have a little house to shield
me now, improved so comfort is increased.
At least I like a solitary day.
At least we have the virtual to yield
me sights of those I want to meet. At least
my future’s not extensive, anyway.