Pandemic VI: Things That Fill the Air

some of my breath, some of yours
his last breath and later hers
 
a prayer on my knees for grace
if I should die before I wake
 
your whispered words, a choir’s song
the droplets that are passed along
 
dust I touch but cannot feel
a rising howl that seems surreal
 
our species’ late epiphany
mahler’s tragic symphony
 
corona virus, children crying
all the daylight slowly dying
 
voices of divinity, a fracture in the galaxy
a mother’s plea ayúdame
 
in the end the love you take
the spreading virus that you make
 
is equal to your distant screams
dreams that die without their wings
 
……….
 
Ayúdame: Spanish translation: help me.
Pronounced: ah-you-da-may

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