Figure 1 – Don’t you just wish you had a magic wand and could wish it all away?

Sunday morning in the time of the isolation

Sunday morning and there are no church bells.

Sunday morning and the streets are deserted.

We are in isolation, self-imposed.

We are in quarantine, self-inflicted.

The word isolation has new meaning.

The word viral, is now a thing of dread.

There are no hugs, they are all virtual.

There are no kisses, only emojis.

Pay-stations mock me, as I trigger them.

Dogs mock me, don’t really understand.

Where are the homeless, more than ignored?

Where are the children, kept now indoors?

I see that the sea is still sparkling.

I see that the crocus now are blooming.

Maples caress the air with crimson buds.

Magnolia blossoms vanish in the wind.

Mergansers still seek seasonal lovers.

Muted swans still dance with their life-long loves.

Spring has come, but there is COVID-19.

Spring is unseen by those in quarantine.