Another year has passed
And Autumn comes again
at last
To usher in memories
of my poetic dreams
I’ve stalled time and again this year
Not completing themes I fear
Lost my way in the anger
Of the body politic, a danger
To my own mental peace of mind
In due time perhaps I will find
My way back home to discover
The fruits of Garden Psalms, a labor
To harvest fruits much greater
Than the hatred that blooms
A simpler time I pine for
Where neighbors still knock at the door
To share their lives and times
before the Covid grind where
Hate and isolation define
This once tolerable nation.
