House Arrest 15 (A Little Sale)

House Arrest

In solitary combat with the curse
Coronavirus, home alone and clean,
and knowing consequences could be worse
but clueless what the cancellations mean,
long-term, in jobs and economic pain,
inhaling headlines made me short of breath.
I saw investments sink and not regain.
I added fear of poor to dread of death.

Forecasting just how bad the loss might be,
I knew I had to gather facts, decide
to keep or sell. I logged in quietly,
set pessimism off till clarified,
and moved to cash a morsel, nothing much,
but now I feel a little more in touch.

This entry was posted in Coronaverse, Money Stuff, Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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