There’s something sobering

about being stuck— sedentary 

like fixed objects— ornaments 

in our own spaces— subtly shuffling along 

bit by bit, day by day goes by, quietly 

we remain undisturbed mostly; 

but we see each other, socially 

distant on screens we consume 

the comings and goings of others— always 

enthralled, saturated— never 

satiated— still we fixate, frustrated and scared 

of ourselves and each other.

Hour by hour we wait — anxiety 

escalates, inwardly first, then 

outwardly, we rededicate our time and attention— 

we adapt—sometimes graciously, sometimes spitefully, 

accommodating each other from afar

because we need to survive (this isolation).

More than ever, we question everything:

aesthetics and appearances— do they matter?

We all consult our inner critic— 

so unknowingly, silently we decide

who is right and who is wrong

in the way we’re doing, sharing…

but we owe each other some sort of reverence 

now, more than ever, we ought to pay homage 

to ourselves and each other—  deliberately, 

publicly shift our collective narrative—

because we need to survive (this isolation)—

together but apart.

—Kelsey Boone DeYoung

March 31, 2020