To other people. Now I do not mean
I couldn't die. But it will not upset
My way of life as well as my routine
Unless I do, or someone near to me.
I have a house that I can pay for; food
Stored up; some savings; job security.
So all the terror somehow is imbued
With surreal colors, like a late Monet.
I do not go outside. I eat. I sleep.
Existence wanders on from day to day
Despite the quarantine. I rarely weep.
This quarantine may threaten many lives
But warm and sheltered, privilege still thrives.
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