Quaran-teened (Or, “Boredom,” A terza rima poem about the pandemic )

By JOEY BAUNOCH I’ve spent my days with little else to do Except to pace around my cluttered room Or watch the sun shine on the morning dew.   My room is gloomy – it feels like my tomb Because there’s nobody to talk to here I’m waiting for my life to reillume.   If … More Quaran-teened (Or, “Boredom,” A terza rima poem about the pandemic )