Pandemic blues. A poem by Giada

Are you lost?
Now that the skies are falling,
can you hear the droplets dancing
on this glass earth of ours?

What is mine, really,
and what is yours?
Are we the have-nots,
even if we have it all, and more, and more still?

Could we still drink from the well
if we had to?
Not if the well is lost. Not if the earth is dry.
Not if we’ve lost our earth
and all won’t be well again.

A summer solstice passes,
another million will too, and more, and more still,
until of me and you
only an unproven theoretical hypothesis is left.


1 Comment

  1. Excellent poem Giada

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