Detached. A Poem by Michael Estabrook

Sometimes my body feels detached
from the rest of my mind
heart and soul
not floating but instead heavy
as an ingot of iron
a block of ice unfeeling and still waiting for something
to happen to inspire the infusion of life
back into my being
especially now during this time
of pandemic the Black Death
of 1348 striking down humanity once again
reminding us that death
is really the boss in spite
of our technological superiority
over nature and the world
helpless and hopeless.
Yes, sometimes my body feels detached
because I want it to be detached
in hibernation
until all this fear
and uncertainty is behind us .

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