There're Other Passions, Y'all

 I don't want to be a writer, anymore. 

Nothing changes on the edges of the horizon

I'm not the person I wanted to be

I gave her up before I left high school

Frightened of the world that was becoming

The horizon faster than film in a rocket

There's nothing left to say that others won't

There's nothing left to see in the sealed backyard

Grass grown too long, weeds in the beds

Spiderwebs skimming rainbows from the dawn

There's nothing left for me to say

Hermetically sealed in the pandemic.