 This is my poem, Sheltering in Place. I wanted to write a poem about the coronavirus and I had no idea how. But I was passing by on my morning walks my neighbor's fence where morning glories are growing all over the fence and she has a little sign out in front which says, please take. So that inspired the poem along with the fact that Adrienne, my neighbor, is a nurse at Oxner Hospital near my house. Sheltering in Place, New Orleans, April 2020. Sweet Peas on my coffee table insists they start this poem. Once they might have called up a painting by Monet, but today they're just some image of mortality. I snipped quickly from my neighbor's front yard fence. After shaking, I read her note, please, please take. COVID-19, we're Sheltering in Place. I jog around the block. She walks to work. Emergency NIC nurse at our neighborhood hospital. Over there, somebody's being born. Somebody's dying. Somebody's being tested. How much this minute I crave the sweet pea odor of transfiguration. Oh no, the cut flower scent is just rusted garden shears. I savor my sense of smell. I'm well. I'm safe at home. Reader, help me tongue-taste these flowers' hues. Pickwent crimson, tart amethyst, honey ambers. While I've been writing here, someone over there died.