The End of COVID

I long for the day

when you can touch my hand again

my laughter will bubble up

burst from my lips

float in the wind

to the top of the canopy

and explode.

Tiny, invisible droplets

raining down on strangers

(who I no longer have to fear)

infecting them with glee

Their own laughter bubbles

and rises and floats and falls on others still

in a self-sustaining cycle

That, I imagine, is what nature intended.