posted in: Poems | 0

Swatting at to-do lists, I imagine a more instinct-driven life.

In April of 2020, living under stay-at-home orders, my daughters and I began the “Quarantine Sonnet” Project. Each day, we each tried to write a sonnet, and we posted them on the wall of our hallway!


Like swarming flies I brush off projects that
I once had passion for, now tiny ghosts
They mingle with the news, chores, podcasts, posts.
I cannot love them all, can only swat.
Ideas wake my blood, I'm breathless, caught,
But then they turn to lists, commands, and boasts.
Slave to my former loves I trudge, then coast
into a sloth, eyes darkened, spirit flat.

Why must I marry projects, vow my time
To spreadsheet faith for all my simple flames?
Such trifles are no meet mate for my soul.
A lioness sees prey move, heart sublime,
She leaps unthinking, kills, eats without claims,
Then sleeps and planless in the sunshine strolls.
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