Written Story by CJ Smith


Outside of my windows live trees 

They continue as 

Seasons march on with vibrancy of autumn 

Bare branches scratch at a wintry gray sky 

Then comes citrine buds and pop they open 

Inside leaves stretch and open wide 

I think of my bedroom as a child-wished treehouse 

Yet along comes a virus, virulent and dread 

It can’t stop the trees outside my window 

It can’t stop the seasons from changing 

Still its morbid threat stops me 

Stops me from walking freely out into the seasons 

The seasons go on and my trees go on 

But immune suppressed I do not 

My room provides me with safety 

Will keep me safe until people start to see 

Covid needs to stop 

Its grasping arms outstretched 

Needs to not limit me anymore