Dead all at once or in waves and curves
That’s today’s to-be-or-not-to-be no matter whom you serve
I remember vigils for those gone in an instant
I remember trying to make sense of remnants
Evoking what they perhaps saw at the end
Necks craned skyward at the bright sun’s rim
And then pressure as if a thousand winds
Blew up from the ground right through them
Scattering all those near and dear
Particles throughout the atmosphere
Small wonder on this day as we face our own death
It’s difficult even awkward to take a breath.
Tiny bits of their lungs, photons of their glistening hair
That’s what today I noticed in our Covid air.