1)
Full moon, gold orb rising falling
flanks our shrinking night.

The plague sinks into the lungs
of all the frail people.

On Esther’s fast day I make calls
to end torture, then rake winter leaf layers

heaped last fall over flower beds
to expose the blooming snow drops.

The blood root pushes first blunt
pink finger-tips into the light.

                             3/10/2020

 2)
Will I live through this ordeal?
Can we love our way through it?  Will any?
Many?  Of our loved ones sicken?  Die? 

3)
A squirrel, killed on the road yesterday,
lies flat on its back, mounted by a crow,
midnight feet planted on its belly.

Crow’s strong beak bobbing breaks
through to eyeball, brain, innards.

Each disaster supplies
some other wanting’s feast. 

                             3/11/2020

4) In Your Image (B’tselem)
Yes we have silence in us and violence too.

Yes we have enough emptiness to fill
the universe.

Is this fear-full disease Your way to call us
back to You?  Back

to each other?  By forcing us apart?

                                      3/26/2020