WRITERS BLOCK

4/3/20   Isle Verde

Trying to write but nothing is coming.

Instead as I dig I’m seeing Cameron’s face 

and the memory of her last visit

two months before she laid down to sleep

and never woke up.

I’m looking outside at the vast blue sky

and blue green ocean, the pelicans diving

the frigate birds soaring, listening to the steady crashing surf.

I’m thinking about the virus affecting millions

killing thousands, isolating the gasping elderly 

dying without love ones near.

I’m remembering the sun ray that lit on my life

who became a moonbeam at night

and still shines on me and around me every day.

I keep searching but am finding nothing but

tears and broken-heartedness

awesome beauty

separation and suffering

love and dreams fulfilled.

But where are those poetic thoughts and words?