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Pandemic: What’s Left to Say?

by Laurie Lessen Reiche


What's left to say?

I have food, two

eyes, fingertips, pink

roses and a yard

full of birds.

What do people matter

with their words, words, words?

The human heart is invisible

in its cave of blood.

It's nothing like the earth

with its hospitals of trees,

nothing like the stars and seas

spreading harmonies.

I have a candle, a piano, a pan

full of paints.

What is this need to touch

another's hand?

What is this beating emptiness?