Moderation

I.

Flew home from Israel,
In week two of the Plague,
Fourteen day quarantine,
And my Zayde’s haint,
Rasps “Idle hands…Devil’s friend”.
So I’m painting our mange-
Blotched, 1940s Cape Cod,
Our peeling, white, heart-haven.

Kibbutz Mizra, Plague day four,
I flail against the government’s web.
Cancelled flights and shuttered stores.
In the Holy Land,
Where the air rustles nervously,
Despite greening hills. And
There is no moderation.

The new order tells
My hotel to shed me,
Like winter fur in April.
But kindness prevails,
And I remain, fed even.
Anxiety forecast now
Cloudy with occasional sun.

II.

Plague safety and painting
Are best taken in moderation.
Six feet apart outside but talk,
Sixteen feet up the ladder,
But please, no farther.
Mental health jogging but,
Personal distance from step one,
Rules too harsh, you rush,
Overload the brush —
Paint drips and spatters
On finished spaces.
And the virus persists.