Yesterday is Sevilla

had I known how it would be –

when the government mandated closure

when –

trains buses aircraft

became containers for a deadly virus,

my voice was but a whisper,

my touch soft as we walked the empty streets

the restaurants and museums shuttered

the ancient space where we ate yesterday, vanished

the beer we drank in that little place the day before, locked away

the heavy wooden door of the Almacen, barred.

The ancient walls filled with paintings, inaccessible

Signs

a culture was dying

as around us

the streets held their mouths tight,

the heavens shuddered with questions,

as this once living universe grew silent,

we turned away and cried.

By Rob Mohr

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