Robin Wyatt Dunn writes

all here

bonded ideally to one another

but it is not so

the runt of the litter

imbues these times with a wretched grace

but not in keeping

there is no keeping

and no keep

all walls have faded

even the walls of our cells

our bodies,

wretched also,

describe in their paradoxes the music of the sun

who is just as confused as the rest of us:

wondering what it is we've done