My first drive during the pandemic is

Into a ghost town

Onto a ghost highway

Around an empty corner

Filled with crows 

Pecking invisible road-kill

Because the killing’s all taking place

Inside the home

            In the kitchen

            On the stairways

            Over the hedge

            Between the clotheslines

And when a car does appear, 

Partnering up for a cozy dosido, 

A sad duckling line of two, 

I suddenly curse, and think, 

            “No! You’re too close! Get back! 

6 feet apart, now…”

Forgetting that’s not for car lengths, but arm’s lengths

body lengths…

body bag lengths,

The lengths we all must go to survive this.