the bloom

autumn sky

Artist’s Statement:
4pm.21.2021 / a reflection on covid-19 // 12:34

---

4.21.2021

and then,
    without regret,
               without care or thought or recognition of its significance,

the final bloom
                       dropped.
     pulled relentlessly by time and gravity,
           down
              down
                                                           plump petals turned to paper-thin wisps
                                                                                 a shadow of their former selves
                                                                                                             down
                                                                                                                   down
                                                                                                 without regret it fell.

and so too whipped the flags in the wind
                                                 without regret.
       flown at half-mast for the loss
                                                               once vibrant bodies turned paper-thin
                lungs once pink
                    like the petals of those flowers
                                                      now a prison cell of cells
                                                                                           clumps of sticky masses turned against the
                                                                                           body dependent on them

flags beating in the wind
     asking, without regret,
                    are you next?

day by day the creeping clock ticks relentlessly onward
                                          meaningless and yet full of meaning
the youth cry out in silent, strangled moans for the loss of a life
          once so bright on the horizon
                                                                                   the lighthouse was destroyed one night
                                                                                   leaving ships stranded,
                                                                                   floating in murky depths
                    crying out in silent, strangled moans
               the sails flap                  flap                  flap on the mast
lifeless                           alone

we are those ships
                       stranded out at sea
                                                                                               no land in sight
                                                                                                                                                                     no lighthouse
time only marked by the final bloom
giving way to its own mortality
without regret.

// 12:34 pm