Idling

The residence where I spend time
is hosting Covid for some days,
so I elect to pen this rhyme
instead of finding other ways
to afternoon without malaise,
like doing wash or cleaning home.
I’d rather seek a metered phrase.
I’ll sit right here and write this poem.

(Huitain)

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

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