I stumbled across a rain mack

That I wasn’t ready to acknowledge

Whether I liked it or not, rain it did

Locked away for a season

Yet winter blues continued to reign

 

 

Not one thing made sense but

The disquieting feeling that strange

Had just become stranger

With professional stress merchants

Selling a condition Grandma would call for Mercy

 

But it wasn’t grandma I missed in this stress tout

It is the self that had to grasp reality

The 3D physical reality that had changed

With masks and social distancing

 

As stress became the new format

Depression followed in a shadow

Yet every news report continued to feed the beast

No wonder the rain mack is yet to rest

Least the spring blossoms change the eaves

 

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