Virus spreads with song.
Breathe deep the gathering doom.
Watch lights fade to dark.
~~~
Children gaze in vain.
Orange wrapped the playground sits.
Elders tut in masks.
~~~
Millennials taunt.
Years must pass to threaten us.
Oblivion grins.
~~~
Essential, food is.
Power, water, light are gifts.
Sacrificed as debt.
~~~
Roll the dice, eyes closed.
Venture out to risk supplies.
Hitchhikers return.
~~~
Years will pass, the same.
Forever changed, our lives are.
Stranger! Trust no one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anonymole - apocryphal agitators 
Nicely crafted.
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My heart skips a beat
What if I die alone today
So much unfinished
So much yet to do
So many people are just so lost
How to bring them home
Much love is needed
Clearing away centuries of rot
Bringing light to all
Your voice is needed
Your humanity so vital
Your words so clearly true
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Nice!
I can imagine a Speak in Haiku Tuesday…
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Nice nod to the Moodys. God knows I love poetry. A very wise person once told me to write poetry, fine, go back and “expunge”, I still remember that, every glue word. The, of, time or stasis (was were be to). It was all very dramatic. “The tiny words, have no meaning. The words of poetry”, she swung, missed my nose by an inch, “must punch you in the face. It is the only way they will touch your heart.”
Adaptable to the short description of characters.
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That must be the lesson then, of poetry, for narrative. I could never connect the two.
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Masked elders tut. There is little difference in Hammett and MacDonald character descripts and good haiku. A large man, pink, rubbery, reeks and drips a cologne of over chlorinated pool water. Clean it up it’s poetry. Oh well. There is a good one in there about does your ass cry into sheets of off brand tissue, bemoaning the dearth of Charmin.
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Strangers indeed. Tragic.
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It’s the end of the world as know, I feel fine
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Can’t be this bad…
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Very creative and evocative. However there is one glaring flaw: you didn’t mention toilet paper.
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True. Or healthcare workers. Must remedy that…
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Excellent series of haiku about the covid virus.
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Nothing captures tragedy like haiku.
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