Current Events Poem

Anxiety Poem Over The Covid Crisis

I am sixty-one, single and vision impaired. I have photophobia, so I don't go outdoors much.

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I was touched by the poem as we helplessly watch thousands of the world inhabitants being sent to early graves by the deadly COVID-19. In spite of the movement restrictions and quarantine...

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Pandemic

Published by Family Friend Poems March 2020 with permission of the Author.

Covid-nineteen
spreading like wildfire.
No more public gatherings,
close the borders,
fiscal stimulus packages,
stock market panic,
the media frenzy,
emotions running high --
we should have acted sooner.
Frivolous jokes
in the shadow
of a looming catastrophe:
Toilet Roll Man will save the day.
The daily figures:
Overall cases
Active cases
Mild cases
Serious cases
Critical cases
Deaths.
The mortality rate
has risen to
three point nine percent.
No end in sight.
This is the first wave
of the pandemic.
Will there be
a deadlier second wave?
A third?
Will my family
and loved ones survive?
The contagion
is our enemy,
invisible, insidious.
Quarantine,
ghost cities,
social distancing,
isolation rooms.
Where will we be
by the end
of twenty twenty?

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