MayPoWriMo 4

Thinking of the souls 
who never even knew
the pandemic before

they left us here
bereft and alone knowing
in their post life

all knowing kind of way
the travails they might have
had the insight

to carry us through
instead of a phone call
we communicate with them

by virtue of their lack
of ears or any other
signifying flesh construction

where did they go
where do they go before us
who seem to stationary

here even as the days
unmasked begin to accumulate
like getting accustomed

to premonition of heaven
all life extinguished except
for us promenading through

the woods littered with pollen
finding pavement instead
of fertile ground

it is enough to know
we knew them in their
recent absence unaware

how much we miss them
days culminating in lack
of loss so profound

we don’t know what to do
with ourselves