Nature Overwhelms

A thick film of yellow-grey slime in the air—
Autumn each year is like this—
but this time there is an added urgency,
the pollution gives me a dull headache,
sinuses inflame, temples throb,
I no longer step out, unless I must,
just sit looking out through the French windows,
as I read an anthology of poetry
on the pandemic,
and a nonfiction book
on Shaheen Bagh,
the bougainvillea is in full bloom,
pink flowers scattered
across the small lawn,

nature overwhelms, counters,
the virus is not a Chinese weapon.