Faceless Killer, masked illusory pseud,
Quarantining our Planet, One by One.
Sunup….Sundown….Sanity?….Solitude.

Immure walls of home, a needle’s eye viewed,
Kin and friend grasp cells, shields from the undone.
Faceless Killer, masked illusory pseud.

Canyons of suites emptied; careers detrude.
Time to focus on the backyard home runs.
Sunup….Sundown….Sanity?….Solitude.

Respectful to mask, yet blind smiles delude.
Tainted tongues of world news spun and unspun.
Faceless Killer, masked illusory pseud.

Each soul born with seeds of dreams included.
Actualize innate gifts, for some unbegun.
Sunup….Sundown….Sanity?….Solitude.

Time on hands searching quiet aptitudes.
Tiers of gilded gifts unveiled by the One.
Still, Faceless Killer, masked illusory pseud,
Sunup….Sundown….Sanity?….Solitude.

INSPIRATION
The subject of this poem was requested by the publisher,
memorializing the world’s reactions to Covid-19 and the quarantine.
The day after finishing this poem, Jane Pauley reported that
quarantined rocker David Lee Roth explored an ancient art using
a centuries old formula of ink. The frustrating gift of time in
quarantine has encouraged a world of people to explore and enjoy
hidden talents. Also, a gentleman cleaning his garage found an old
bucket of baseballs he used with his son and grandson. A neighborhood
boy had lost both his grandfathers, but the bucket of baseballs enheartened
a friendship, sharing the love of baseball. This poem was published in
The Best Poets of 2020.