day THIRTEEN HUNDRED and SIXTY SIX

Virus Morning

And now I’m crying

over an old song
in the quiet morning
with my dog beside me
on the couch

and the people locked away

and I can’t stop the tears
as the song
tells me stories
of before.

In the kitchen
I will eat my breakfast
and tell myself
I will find a way
to stop all this crying
before my children
wander into the room
and ask why daddy is sad

because I don’t want
to say the truth
or lie to them.

I just need to keep them safe

though I don’t know
how to do that

as the world spins foul
and the people
are hidden
sick and dying

and the music plays.

--Jeff Weddle