In This Time of Plague by Frances Roberts

In This Time of Plague

The heat has dimmed at last
shrinking back into night’s wraps.
The distance between us
seems to shrink as well.
A comfort of enclosure
draws us closer
folding us together again
into our battered vows of long ago
even though we cannot
shed our masks
and meet each other
skin to skin.

The Curse of Covid-19

Confined to my house
an image of you on the screen
is all I have
like a hologram
flickering symbolically
accompanied by a voice
pretending to be you.
You are not really here
without the touch
without the smell
without the breath of laughter.
My movie-like encounter
breaks my heart .
Who knows when
we’ll meet again
and laugh.

Loss of Joy

We are both compelled to work from home.
Loud on-line conversations fill the house most days.
I stalk silence earplugs assisting slightly.
Buzz saws are doing repair work for our NBN.
Family contact is near impossible –
calls grow less frequent
stress widening between us all.
We are adapting to an almost empty life
walking restless as zoo animals.
We have no real exercise
and only skeleton conversations.
Threads of illness are plaited into night time fears.
We greet the morning briefly
anxious about the work-linked loud discussions
awaiting us
as well as a dread of lonely silence
which settles into all the spaces.
Joy is the thing that has vanished.

Posted in C19

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