
Bravado
a pandemic reflection
Flesh and bone
is
prey
for a
viral
marauder;
our
mortality
the talk of the town.
Fear
is
blood-letting
the
reservoir
of
communal
hope.
Familiar
touchstones
disintegrate
into
free-form
sand piles.
We
scoop
and
scrape
the
diffusing grains;
knuckles reddened
with
crimson futility
to
maintain
our
shape
of
security.
This
moment
belies
our
bravado.
We
are
not
our
own.
Great imagery Chris. I peer into these literary pictures and find myself on the journey, thankfully, embracing the comfort spelled out in your grand finally.
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