Ode to Quarantine
Here,
among the basement, 
a silent sanctuary 
since September
that resurrects in the summer sun 
but only creaks 
during the witching hour now 
to warm its inhabitants 
Surrounded by 
the shadows where the spiders
play hide-and-seek when they’re
not spinning their webs in a dusty corner
while photos of the old world
lemon sand, marshmallow clouds,
hang on the wall as the worst
of cruel reminders
Only you 
can make the shy ones
nostalgic for a social time
of banter and honest laughter 
while killing the everlasting sunshine
that is buried in the optimist mind
--Lauren