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#NaPoWriMo, #NationalPoetryMonth, #poetry, covid-19, Day 27, death, dorindaduclos.com, mourning, Night Owl Poetry, poems, tears, writing
Loved ones locked
In eternal sleep
While mourning doves coo,
And willows weep
Rains fall heavily
From a burdened sky
Clouds gather closely,
As together they cry
O’er the land,
Lain wasted, below
A turn of events,
Defeated by foe
Invisible, it conquered,
Prayed on the meek
Laughed in the face
Of the old and the weak
Ravished their bodies,
Then tossed them aside
Not a care in the world,
For the ones who had died
Piled in the cold,
In a box made of steel
No one to mourn them,
Nor help them to heal
Buried underneath
A sky, ever gray
It’s as if it knew,
It would all end this way…
©2020 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by Peggy und Marco Lachmann-Anke from Pixabay
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you, my friend!
xoxoxo
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It’s catastrophic, the number of deaths, the isolation of patients. Your words convey the reality beautifully – if that’s possible.
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Thank you, V.J. The only way I know how to deal with it is to write. Losing someone close to us really brought the reality of it all to light. I pray this ends soon, but we cannot go back to things as was. We need to learn from this! Be safe, dear friend!! ❤
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I think it is the loss of lives I fear the most. Our poor hearts. Take care of yourself.
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You as well ❤
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❤
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❤
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