a reflection from self-quarantine

The world is silent today.
For perhaps an hour, I didn’t even hear
a single car on the street outside my apartment.
Some truck just rolled by and it was SO LOUD
MY GOD

The air is so still.
There’s a puddle on the roof of the restaurant
across the street, with a perfect reflection
of the tree that rises a whole story taller than
the building itself.
The reflection: black, empty branches against
a colourless sky. They look like roots. 
The air is so still there are no ripples in the 
puddle. It could be a window to another
world, for how clear it is. 

Funny how I notice the blare of a horn on the highway
several blocks away.
How I notice the silvery swish of cars when they 
pass on the street below. 

The world is still today, and very grey, and I
wonder if it is reflecting my mood
or if my mood is reflecting the world. 

(Sometimes I feel like a mirror, hollow of everything
but a single emotion that may not even be
my own.)

The world is silent today.
So am I.