What can I do to stay clear of Corona?
How can I not draw too near to Corona?
Praying that someday we’ll all meet again
And not lose the ones we hold dear to Corona.
My beloved Aunt Ida, one-hundred years old,
Is swiftly swept into the sphere of Corona.
Hearing the news from the White House, I weep
As that madman continues to sneer at Corona.
I open my front door, then step back inside
Unable to conquer my fear of Corona.
The nurses, the doctors, the grocery clerks,
So grateful for each pioneer of Corona.
Mouths hidden by masks below eyes full of fear,
Such is the new atmosphere of Corona.
We greeted each other with kisses and hugs,
That was before the premiere of Corona.
A friend becomes ill, though she’s hardly left home,
You think you’re immune? is the jeer of Corona.
Look Ma, No Mask, reads a protestor’s sign,
Refusing to put on the gear of Corona.
A patient feels better, the next day he’s dead,
Pierced through the heart by the spear of Corona.
Weeks after she’s well, she is still short of breath,
Her inhaler a sad souvenir of Corona.
The numbers increase, thousands dying each day,
“You can’t stop my brilliant career,” says Corona.
I dreamed that a postcard of hospital beds
arrived saying, Wish you were here. Love, Corona.
The government’s attitude, wealth over health
Is revealed by the bright chandelier of Corona.
“Go on! Have a party! I’ll crash it for fun!”
Who’s that whispering into my ear? It’s Corona.
She canceled her wedding because she was scared
That one of her guests might appear with Corona.
He thought it was safe to go out to a bar
Then found himself sharing a beer with Corona.
I try to stay calm but this question looms large:
Will my home be the final frontier of Corona?
Dearest Lesléa, I’m thinking of you.
Don’t worry, I won’t disappear. Hugs, Corona.
Image: “Chandelier” by Derren Hodson, licensed under CC 2.0.