with restricted movements,
fear of infection kept at bay
from a distance ~
from unknown crowds ~
even one or two ~
still taking risks
in the grocery store
in a taxi
on the bus
walking in the park
when I am so uncertain
but still I keep writing
feeling the space
trying to find the right fit
in my own home ~ just me ~
no longer skirting the fray and fringes of life
~ tired of the skirting ~
lost in it’s folds,
blinded by the draperies I’ve hidden behind
always wanting more
not knowing what ‘more’ is
until here I am fitting, sitting, writing
at my kitchen table knowing life is abundant.
My cup overflows and I am grateful.
Not for the pandemic that kills ~
but for the space it has foisted upon me
“Make the most of yourself….for that is all there is of you.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
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