The No Waterfront Blues Blues

The corner store is shuttered, the markets all are bare
The empty streets are sweltering in summer’s baleful glare
We wait for tolling church bells to fill the silent air.

Masks to go outside in, six feet apart to talk
Stay clear of your neighbors when you go out for a walk
I don’t know why my roses all withered on the stalk.

A beach is not a beach without the burning sand
Summer isn’t summer without blues in the band
No-one can survive this without a helping hand.

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