Amorphous Unease

I woke up feeling like I had too much
to do today, too driven and too pressed.
That’s odd because I’m locked inside, with such
a surge in virus that I’ll host no guest
and go nowhere, agreeing that I’m best
off staying safe and warm inside my home.
Too many books and puzzles? I felt stressed
and unproductive, till I penned this poem.

(Huitain)

This entry was posted in Coronaverse, Health, Poetry, Writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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