When this is over

Lovers will hold their kiss longer

And taste that sweetness again;

Sunrise will bring praise and relief

And nightfall an emptiness.

When this is over

Books will be put away and clothes folded,

A bed sheet smoothed, unused;

A room growing cold.

When this is over

A shovel will overturn some earth

And flowers rested in the hole

Then covered, watered,

The yet sealed flowers hope.

When this is over

Some poet will find the exact words

And a photographer will capture the perfect sunbeam;

Hearts hardened, will soften.

When this is over

Some kid will run and tumble

And make a miraculous catch on a green field;

Some cursing duffer will launch a ball into the woods.

When this is over

Someone will order a bagel with lox,

A server will shout, “Twenty-nine! Yeah, thanks.”

Coffee will be black and tea sweet, the first bite of a doughnut crumbling.

A baby will cry.

The garbage truck will clatter down an early morning street,

The dog will need walking and chase a squirrel up a tree.

When this is over

The rain will come

The sun will arise

The moon will glow

And the lawn will still need mowing.

(Photo: Sunrise, Belgrade Lake, Maine)