What I Miss While in Quarantine

An air of intentionality 

A certain gravitas in my working

My reading, my typing

It’s not just leisure but effort 

Finishing goals

The blossoming ideas tended by lack of outings

I miss the noise 

No, not the noise the background

Muted but ever present

With the world and time passing 

As I sit quietly in my corner 

Visiting streams of consciousness 

Close enough to dip your toes in

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