just
one
agile
microbe flits
to a fecund field
of fresh human nasal membrane
where its offspring swell then mist off hoping for fresh fields
life
or its
semblance leaps
we chance to color
the shape of its infinity
our
numbers
and hope for
luck that some find moist
red tissue to fill with our kind
we
fly blind
less than cells
in hope to find cells
to trick to make more of our kind
lie
ahead
we burrow
into beings that
make myths of our viral voyage
of
a curve
we hope will
flatten but flows on
forever with the human herd
