Afterward, A Mockery

We’ll restart the clocks
Mantle the sun
This too will have passed 
The worst will be done.
The doors will swing open
The seats will be filled
The streets will be jammed
The kids will be thrilled.
I’ll hug you on Thursday
At the back of the line
We’ll bury the winter
In a too bright sunshine.
Today’s art is made of  plastic, paint, and anticipation.


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