i keep having ideas for poems
and then leaning away from them

i think i’d like to hibernate
until spring comes

but what if spring
and summer
and early fall
all continue like this—
terrible news
no end to covid in sight
[though people try as they might
to ignore all the facts and findings]
death
and destruction
and feeling hopeless and helpless to stop it
unrelenting
unrelenting
i feel like i need a hibernation
until my next
life