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