'Foreigners To Hostile Places'

Our pandemic condition is this:
that (sometimes) without realizing it,
we are walking on the surface of a lake;
we are in love

Better to have awakened to these miracles
and later, become wind-conscious;
gain dark weights made from premonitions;
witness the intangible debris of our hearts, scattered on unpaved roads
and consequently, sink, or fall out of that love
than
never to have realized these miracles at all;
never to have realized that in our own fashion
we have been Peters, Atlases, Sisyphuses, all along

Our pandemic condition is this:
that (sometimes) we do not realize
that we are walking on the surface of the lake;
that we are in love

Until it is much, much too late

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