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