Today, A Year and a Half

As the pressure of impending flash flooding heavies my body, I look back and forward and tell you what is there (a COVID poem, delta variant.)

Image description: a firetruck turns up an urban car-lined street. A tree above has reddish leaves and other trees across the street and in the background have green, red, and green-and-red leaves.


A year and a half
as a unit of comparison
is cumbersome, seasonally offset.

But nonetheless,
the pressure of impending flash floods
heavying the body

resembles the feeling
of what was to come as others
went about their business
until the sirens in this city
became unceasing,
and then elsewhere.

except this time, it's the crisp of the cusp of

except this time, the ambulances
will first fill
with children.

— Brooklyn, NY 9/1/21


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