Chainsaws & Chippers (HA 94 Almost-Pushkin Sonnet)

House Arrest

For 90 days I dwelled in quiet here.
I mostly stayed at home like all of you.
We watched surrounding air and water clear.
We buzzed with nerves and heard the birds anew.

But now our house arrest is wearing thin.
We’re lacking facts but aren’t staying in.
Disease proceeds and ignorance destroys,
but we’re reopening and making noise.

The traffic hasn’t yet produced the crush
we dread ahead, but all around of late
are power sounds of home and yard repair.
No longer in a zone of beeper hush,
the chainsaws whined last night till nearly 8.
Now chipper grunts of grinding fill the air.

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