COVID Poem

Three millennials walk into a bar.

And they hug.

And they kiss.

And they eat with their fingers

from a communal dish.

 

They are young.

They are healthy.

Their households are too.

They fear loss of freedom and jobs,

not this new kind of flu.

 

Church is cancelled today.

“Could we spread out through the pews?”

Pastor had mused.

He abides the request.

Staying home now is best.

 

Need a job?

Call Door Dash. They’re swamped.

Support local business! Folks plead.

Get take out, delivery,

and gift cards you don’t need!

Some do, not enough.

Making payroll is tough.

 

Work remotely online!

That sounds quaint to the laborer,

server and chef.

Will rent be paid on Albany’s dime?

When we venture back in the world,

what shops will be left?

 

The unknown is scary.

Few tests are at hand.

Slow the spread so that science

can catch the demand.

Keep grandma at home.

Birthday parties are banned.

 

Schools are shutting their doors,

though kids don’t feel sick.

Big kids learn from a screen

and then want to go play.

With parents at work

where do little kids stay?

 

Leaders try to be wise,

learning what actions matter.

So many voices and meetings

and online chatter.

What can we do

to make the curve flatter?

 

Do we lock it all down?

Mandate a ghost town?

What have we learned

from China and Rome?

How will we be changed

when we emerge from our home?

 

How long will this last?

When will social distance

be a thing of the past?

 

A century of scientific miracles.

We believed we were invincible.

 

With one crown shaped virus

Mother Nature reminds us,

it’s connection that binds us.

CoronavirusVictoria Gearity

Mayor, Village of Ossining

 

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