I dream of a summer that once was
Lived in lightness and sun.
In beaches, parks, in supposed bliss
None unsought, naught undone:
Market streets and impulse eats
Slides, swinging, parks brimming
Party dresses, salon-ed tresses
Teeming malls and movie halls
Cricket craze in the summer blaze
And spur o’ moment holidays.
So breathless, so tireless
So fearless, those summers.
And now we huddle in stillness
Huddle apart, huddle within.
To each, her own address
Such a summer this has been.
Huddle apart, huddle within.
To each, her own address
Such a summer this has been.
And we huddle in this stillness
Socially distanced mites of hope
Even as tiny chinks in the darkness
Lighten us, help us cope.
And now we huddle in stillness
In the silence and din of our homes.
And thrive in a new busy-ness
As time, relentless, drones.
And now we huddle in stillness
Circumscribed by our walls.
Truth be told, droll thankfulness
In humdrum chores and calls.
Circumscribed by our walls.
Truth be told, droll thankfulness
In humdrum chores and calls.
And now we huddle in stillness
Necessity mothering invention
Shaking age-old “don’t know”-ness
No win too small to shun.
Necessity mothering invention
Shaking age-old “don’t know”-ness
No win too small to shun.
As we wait: to spring to the normal
---Which normal, I wonder---
A return to Old Breathlessness?
Or to craft a new Mindfulness?
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