03/23/20 Virtually, Blooming
Spring is the time of paradise
birds,
new music on your sleeve,
a world freshly thawing…
But instead here we are,
full of restrictions
like a pre-pubescent boy
in space camp.
If this lasts
we’re never gonna
find touch again;
we’ll high-five, virtually,
virtually
we’ll play,
we’ll be
virtually
in business.
If this is a test, we’ll pass, virtually;
we’ll be
in sight
but out of touch.
What a fine time
To love
What you surrender