deepundergroundpoetry.com

Quarantine (Coronavirus pandemic of 2020)

As I sit on the front porch,
the way people used to do back in the day,
I listen to the drone of tires on the pavement
from the occasional passing car.
My thoughts turn to daydreams
which are interrupted
by the drone of a bumble bee
who is hovering near
which turns into the drone
of a small plane passing above
so tiny high up in the sky
which turns into the drone
of a distant lawn mower
someone trying to beat the rain
which is the best fertilizer
for both grass and weeds.
Thoughts melting
between one drone and another
all part of this lazy afternoon.
I go inside as the clouds start to build
then as I lie on the couch
I hear the drone of steady rain
and I know it won't be long
before someone else's ears
will hear the drone of my snoring




































































































































































































































































































































Written by Seed
Published
Author's Note
Self-quarintined poem
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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