It started a
while back, like
a joke, a rumour a
nuisance, Covid 19, or
Coronavirus, “It’ll be over
in a couple of weeks, it’s like a
cold, a sneeze, a sniffle, that’s all?”
how wrong we all were with that sure
analogy. Thousands losing holidays and so
many thousands losing work, thousands forced
to stay at home. So many thousands dead! Then
the thought, how would it be if it were me, so
carelessly caught it. No taste,
no smell, a dry, dry, dry cough, a living
hell. Self – isolating, in my two – up,
two down, on the darker side of town.
The night, the ambulance, the sirens,
confusion, delusion, the ward, the
bed, the things to say to loved
ones left unsaid. The oxygen,
the tent, the time, in limbo
spent. Hours just being,
not seeing, no sense,
feeling body fail
useless lungs
filling with
concrete
© Ray Stearn 8th September 2020
