future perfect continuous tense

I became an orphan
at sixty
does that make it less sad
the last vestige of that nucleus beginning
cut away
parents gone
one brother dead
the other surrounded by his own bewildering
offspring
 
here I am
no longer tied to perfunctory obligations
or old habits
whose only responsibility
is to my
self
 
to open my eyes
each day
stretch open the years
and see just what it is
I’m made of

Archer Paper Goods

It was just one of those little things
I missed in that year
of solitude and caution
where whistling past the grave yard
I knew there were bigger things
to wish for
to hope for
to pray for
When boxes of latex gloves, bleach wipes,
sanitizers
were stored and used on every
piece of mail,
can of food,
light switch,
door knob
shoe,
counter,
steering wheel
When touching
anything
caused me to spring back in horror
and rush to wash
again and again
and again
 
But today
over a year later
masked, vaccinated, at ease
the beautiful shop beckoned
and I fulfilled that little wish
to smell the candles
and touch beautiful things
just like it was a normal day