As CORONA passed,
as everything passes one day,
White collars
away from glaring displays,
plow the Earth instead.
Pink collars
with the pain of losing the aged
they tended to,
fiddle with needles and threads instead.
Blue collars
leaving jangling metal and stubborn cement,
tickle fecund plant seeds instead.
Fresh hot milk straight from the milkman
replace the cup of water and pallid powder,
on the breakfast table,
rich with edibles from the home garden.
The dusty burning air full of specks of fuel
pushed away by fresh air
saturated with pollen and aroma.
A great many years
of technological development
failed to combat a tiny being,
that is just an infant’s age.
In just a few weeks,
we’re tumbled down
the magnanimous hill
of urbanization
on to the fields of husbandry once again.
Reviews and Muses Hamper for Keeps 