YES, TO ANYTHING - Poem

 

YES, TO ANYTHING

I find myself wondering
What it was like last pandemic,
When the good burghers of this town
Huddled in their homes, without radio,
Without television, without Zoom.

Their floors must have been spotless,
Their pantries sorted, their clothes
Mended to better than new.
Their children solitary in their games,
Consuming the canned meals on the table.

It was unusually wet that year,
Meaning that the Creek flooded
And the tide swamped boats,
The snow piled up in the streets
And shovels were in short supply.

When the rain and snow ended
The pandemic continued on.
It was not raging. Just steadily
Picking off the young, the old,
The unwell without defense.

Yet, the remainers carried on,
Inside their wood-planked world,
Saying yes to anything
That meant they were still alive.
Yes, to anything that meant going on.

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