Beneath the rock slide
I lie gasping.
So many stones squashing
the life out of me,
Covid, isolation, tension,
anxiety in others,
illness, recent deaths,
responsibility, each a
pebble piled
until breathing seems
an impossibility.
Where is the safety crew
to clear the debris
so we can be well,
be free of despair,
be who we used
to be.
Crushed December 15, 2021
poem-last day June 24, 2021
Just wisps of clouds dot the periwinkle sky
Faint breeze dancing among the leaves
Grads gathering, twelve at a time.
Four guests only. Strictly enforced by the
Ministry of Health. Bring five. Grad ends.
The tents in case of rain
Lake and hills in view.
Pandemic grads to walk across the grass
This graduation has so many things new
but something old:
Hand-shake in gown and cap.
Farewell, all our best wishes go with you.
poem-budding April 22, 2021
Outside the window
new green
We walk by in masks
waiting for vaccine
Spring is a time
for hope
Another year on a
slippery slope.
Daffodils bursting
from the soil
Politics and a pandemic
embroiled
Breathe.
Take care.
We’re almost
there.
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NaPoWriMo Day 22 A little contrast between the hope of spring and the stress of rising numbers of infected folks, including a friend.
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poem-sijo April 20, 2021
Day 20 NapoWriMo prompt is the sijo, a Korean form. It’s a triplet with lines of 14-16 syllables, each divided. Conflict, development, resolution with a twist.
The school bell rings; kids enter one by one, masked, alone in the crowd.
They ignore the rule to space themselves out, clamouring for comfort.
Teens want to crush close together, as they stare at their phones.
poem-what’s to do? April 9, 2021
One voice shrill above the babble:
WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING!
Oh girl,
I hear you.
What’s happening, indeed.
How do we hold our pieces together?
*buy string
*wrap a reminder around my finger: “it will be okay”
*send a card: Thinking of you
*put on makeup
*video call
*write a poem
*read a book
*have a nap
*roll in blankets with the dog
*sing loudly to the radio
*hunt for daffodils
*listen to the chickadees
*fill the feeder, black oil sunflowers are their favourite.
*be gentle with myself when I inevitably
*fall apart
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Today’s NoPoWriMo prompt is to write a To Do list.
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poem- When we spoke of masks April 6, 2021
Once, masks were metaphorical;
pandemics were historical.
Now, cortisol flood makes us
fatter every day.
Isolating’s creating a nation of moles,
nervous of leaving our holes,
as each wave proves more deadly,
We’re wishing consequences on anti-maskers
and anti-vaxxers: be sacrifices for your cause,
carry a card that you’re happy to
leave hospital beds for those who
take this seriously, those
who sacrifice comfort for society.
We’ll try to survive by masking insecurities,
and wait eagerly for our vaccines,
praying variant strains, don’t over-strain us.
Masking anxiety until we can
Breathe easier again.
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NaPoWriMo Day 6. Another day ignoring the official prompt ’cause I had other stuff in my mind. Weird how often I’m playing with rhyme this week.
poem- gang aft a-gley December 17, 2020
Those best laid plans
family coming from afar
creating traditions, warm hearts,
remembering those lost this year.
Everything is ready here, gifts piled up
waiting for wrapping.
Public health says stay home.
We must be lonely holiday islands.
There’s no time for parcels to arrive by the
assigned festive day
amid the mail delivery crisis.
No one to gather around our table.
So everything will be different.
We must make something new, a Zoom festivity?
Re-thinking that nativity when a stable had to do,
just like for the Holy Family, things don’t always go
according to
our best laid plans.
poem- like ducks December 7, 2020
On the outside:
calm, controlled, confident.
Beneath the surface:
quivering, quaking, confused.
How many stress-based illnesses
tension fueled troubles
surface in our bodies and minds?
How hard do we fight
to carry on?
poem- pandemic life December 2, 2020
It is a wearisome year
Each new day weighs heavier
than yesterday.
Poem- choking December 1, 2020
Tonight amid the Christmas decorations
grief is hanging on our tree;
loss pummels
hopefulness.
Sadness hollows out my chest,
crushes my shoulders,
lodges in my throat.
Longing overwhelms.
There is no comfort
here, only more memories
of what is gone
who is gone
when is gone
where is gone.
Tonight is too much to bear,
so I’ll climb into bed and
trust tomorrow brings
solace and that much lauded
peace of the season.
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Shawn L. Bird 