The Streets Are Empty Poem by Shalom Freedman

The streets are empty
Except for a solitary jogger
The regular bustling morning
Is silent
The calm deceives
People unable to go to work
Restless in their homes
What has happened to the world,
In such a short time?
So much silence and anxiety
Virtual this and virtual that
Even the sky today is not happy
The grey the white is not the bright blue of spring
It is only for a time
When it will be over
The world will come back perhaps
Even the grocery and fruit stores are closed
Stay home and stay socially distant
Nowhere to go and nothing much to say
The rest of the day promises only
Whatever we can do for ourselves alone.