(with apologies to Taylor Goldsmith)
If you drove
Past this window
Right now
What would you think
A faint glow from the bathroom
Across the hall
Slipping out of the half-open blinds
Of a bedroom facing the street
A man lies upon a spartan bed
Still and silent
No television prattles
No radio sings
A man alone with his thoughts
Is either a sublime or dangerous thing
He has experienced both states
In a life that is, statistically, more than half over
Tonight
He is adrift
What responsibilities he had this day
Have been discharged
In this mass global shutdown
The world has asked less of him
Than it has in a long time
But its asking merely lies in wait
It will ask much, much more
In the hazily glimpsed future
Just on the other side
Of the pause button
