
A.C., 52, a writer/editor in Sydney, Australia
“…I spread wide my arms,
stretch heart skyward
breathe deeply under
overarching boughs
and open my eyes
to a small universe
of grey-brown spheres
gently swaying
midst the frenzied
feeding,
each one so like a
tiny spiky
Death Star—
a perfect
wooden replica
of a COVID-19 cell…”