Sonnet for uncertainty

Freshmen held hands,
I shared a bag of popcorn with my sister,
and the subway riders gripped poles—
what do you call kissing with a mask on?
In January I read about pandemics in the car,
but it was snowing then.

Now I have a cold and everyone I talk to
takes a step back.
I can only assume
there’s no theatre in quarantine 
but even from the window you can watch
winter dripping away.

It’s not the right time for touch, no,
I check the New York Times instead.