Days run together
And soon I don’t know …
Is it Wednesday or Saturday?
We step through this disorienting, timelessness
of social distancing, quarantine, isolation.
I watch the news, increasingly grim,
And realize that we all will know someone
touched by a COVID-19 death.
And this grief overwhelms me,
Knowing that things will never be the same.
There will be suffering.
There is suffering. Right now.
Can we trust that humanity will get through this?
Like we got through the Black Death?
Like we got through the Great Wars?
Like we got through unimaginable disasters?
Tenacious human spirits hang on.
We adapt, we hope, we move, always, towards healing.
#pandemic
All the Wonders 
Beth, my niece, my baby love, I am so happy to know that I am not the only one who has to read the byline on the newspaper to check the day’s date. I had done so today: Seattle Times said it was Wednesday, but by the time the Port Townsend Leader came in the mailbox in the afternoon, I was sure that they had sent it out a day early, on Tuesday.
When my dad lived in assisted living he would often tell me that every day looked the same. He would often ask me what day it was. In this 11th week of “staying home” I can relate!
Thank you for your poem and words of hope!