You fear you won't
make it through.
We all do.
We fear that
the depression
will never lift,
the yelling will
never stop,
the pain will
never leave.
In the pits,
surrounded by
steep walls
and aching
reminders,
we wonder:
Will this gray
sky ever brighten?
(Thinking of the Covid 19 crisis)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem