Poem, March 28

this time

the upward slope

of daily numbers –

each one –

without touch.

without goodbye,

many will die.

this, this is how

we finally know

our connectivity,

thanks to exponents.

at the all clear

we will hear

the joy of a crowd

enjoying, yes

when the all clear comes

may we know

how to say hello,

our neighbors’ names

each storied one.