We social distance in our car on unexplored country roads.
On winding country roads, we wonder where this curve will take us?
As if on cue, morning mist rises to reveal the splendor of mown hay.
We imagine the wall clock ticking and blackboard chalk scratching inside the abandoned schoolhouse.
What did our mothers dream while hanging clothes in the morning light?
In spring, we frisk innocent as lambs from our childhood nursery rhymes.