What a strange and prescient thing

This prompt number nine

From years ago with many words that ring

Of just this moment in time

Why would the word mask appear

To capture the alienation and outrage

Of any time but here

From bygones when Zoom

Was a word fast and futuristic

Not evocative of perpetual technical doom

Few words resonate more than lethargy today

Our minds and bodies exhausted

When energy and joy seems passe

Our spirits consumed by malaise

Then came the fire

Meted by the Heat

Waking the ire

Moving throngs to the street.

Perhaps next year we can reprise

Cottages, porridge and fireflies

Until then pass another bottle

I am headed to the treeline, thoughtful