From a Diary of the Plague Year (2)

The wind wants to play
today, coming in at all
angles. Clouds look weary,
sagging low, slow, spilling
a few raindrops like a drunk
pulling change out of a pocket.

As to the unnatural world:
people seem humbled by
the pall of the plague, as if
their ambition and certainty
had turned into old castoff toys.

Mainly we seem to be doing
what humans do when not
prodded into social madness:
one foot in front of the other, using
one or many wheels moving things,
caring about and for others,
gathering good information,
wondering how long good sense
will last.


hans ostrom 2020