Christmas time is here, friends cannot draw near. We wear our masks, complete tasks, attempt our songs of cheer.
Having seen the monuments dedicated to those who sacrificed their lives, I wonder what it would be like, to see a monument to the dead of this virus. A monument to the survivors, many of whom still suffer.
When December calls...
love should be easy...
These ruins sit unused, generations pass them by.
Leaves fall. Each one starts, a gentle cascade to the earth, carried by the breeze.
I lose myself in the music if only for a moment.
It is a swirling storm that reigns my thoughts.
I would normally bake two dozen butter tarts, because you loved them.
I don’t see you any more, your lights dimmed amidst the glow of others.
Play harder than you worry.
Your kindness matters.
I fell apart today picked up the broken pieces, quickly taped them back up, went on my way.
Perhaps it's time to flatten other curves.
I stopped, met my deadline...