Wavering Sky

Tuesday night my fan was on full blast,

For the sun beat on the Bay Area steadfast,

But a thundering shout awoke me at dawn,

For now, the sun was hiding and Zeus came to have fun,

And now I can’t decide whether to wear a tank top,

Or dress in anticipation of rain nonstop,

For the Bay’s everchanging weather in winter and fall,

Throws quite a curveball.

Whirlwind of Time

Eight fifty on the clock,

Join Zoom Meeting, open up the classroom doc,

The teacher’s speaking,

But from my ears, their words are leaking,

They say we have a quiz today,

But I can bet that we already had one yesterday,

Or perhaps a week ago,

Which day are we on? It’s hard to know,

Sleeping and Eating, Muting and Leaving, Scanning and Submitting,

These days are terribly unremitting.

Sprouts 

If I wish to be anything, my future must be bright,

But the walls I’m trapped within let in no starlight,

Everyone said this quarantine was an opportunity to grow,

But the roots from which I stem now burrow,

And I keep trying to branch out,

Hold onto another extracurricular in hopes to sprout,

Yet, the vines within that valley,

Are also withering in their alley,

I’m growing in reverse,

Bound by a repetitive curse,

No sun, no roots, no water of passion,

The garden has fallen ashen.