When Will Rogers Met Donald Trump

Stuck here at home, unable to see my family anymore,
lying in bed at night I think, with short, shallow breaths about a vaccine soon,
but know, staring out my window into the night, it’s a moon shot.

Before these grand times came upon the world this past spring,
when Covid-19 began its insane run on the way to unchecked amok,
I used to count on my retirement blessings like Lady Macbeth on her upward arc,
forever rubbing my hands together with great glee over my future plans.

Before March of this year, I was the dreamer expecting all fortunes to be good,
and then one fine morning I realized I should have been more thankful for what I’d already accomplished,
watching everything I wished for go the way of Jay Gatsby’s dreams.
Some days I don’t even have the strength to beat on, old sport.
Some days I just want to rest the oars and get borne ceaselessly back.

Then in a glimmering moment I’ll think, hey, we landed on the moon in 1969.
But I’m not so sure then, that being so long ago it seems as if it were a dream.

* * * * *

Aloha #WriterTuesday. Today’s #WritingPrompt is

it happened

Use it to inspire a piece of writing, and then post that piece somewhere I can read it. I’d love to see it : )

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