Poem Corona

I’ve gotten old enough

Ambitious enough

That I forgot everything love can do

And maybe I’d remember everything I forgot 

If I just stopped to listen 

And divorced sound for music 

And regret for memory 

And patterns for purpose  

An obligation to remain closed

An ease to rely on waiting 

Inertia, an action

Locked in

Crying out

The heart that can’t leave

Muffled by four hundred months

But always singing the music 

Maybe words have a limit 

And I should stop their assault 

For the song