We wipe our cans of soup and store our shoes
Beyond the windows, just inside the gate.
We're lost in thought, or what is thought's excuse
In keeping sick at bay, protecting fate.
Way back, before the doors of stores were closed,
We shook the hands and danced without a thought.
We wandered aimless and unstressed, supposed
The shelves held all we'd ever want. We bought
Our food and fun. We thought just of today.
No fretting over soap and bread, like now,
When turns of mind or hand might matter, play
Some role in our demise, our final bow.
We traded freedoms, some just off this street
To save our lives, and those we've yet to meet.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a sonnet. A sonnet is a poem of 14 lines. It follows a strict rhyme scheme. It is often about love. Instructions and examples. |
Author Notes
Once in a while, like every other hour, I rail at what once was, what was so simple and accessible, way back in 2019. The freedoms we took for granted, the material things we could bring home from the store, any store, without a second thought. Life has changed so dramatically for all of us, and now we realize that the simple things were actually treasures. Hugging our kids, our grandkids. Eating out. Stepping into a store to browse. Perhaps one day, given access to those simple comforts once again, we will appreciate them.
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