When the fever breaks, Covid song

I might go down to Cleveland
where my people worked the mines
as the ocean rose through shale
and their lives were cast aside
heard the house may be still be standing
with the brush growing hold
but the planes aren’t taking air
and ships are locked to wharves
all the things we used to traffic
in the blustery broken days
gone wild now from windy rhymes
buried shallow as a fortune weighed
still I’d like to wander there
among the stones so simply laid
when summer was all we needed
and our winter was just a tale

Narmin Khalilova Art – Emptiness, pencil on paper

2 thoughts on “When the fever breaks, Covid song

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