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Poems in a pandemic

She said,
feels weird to poem
in these times.
it took me a while to reply
till these words floated in my head
poems are windows to the world

So i poem-ed for her
poems are ducts of sunlight
amidst the dampness of fear
pressure valves that force oxygen
through closed doors & clamped chests
oxy-poems be like oxy-meters
prescribe & provide at leisure
They are pockets of air
to gasp & grasp
breath one poem at a time

Nurse by verse
drip by rhyme
when daily news makes you frown
these words stitched together
read during this plague within
it becomes a care a cure,
help you rise, sit up
look out the window
and say
One day again...

They'd say poems do not count
vaccines beds doctors do
I remembered a tale
about a doctor being sick
best of medicines didn't stick
she lay tired & ready
to pull the blanket
over her head
till she found an old book
the poems within she read

Do not go gently into the night
oh captain my captain,
the road less taken
no man is an island
Only when they pulled the blanket
off her head
they found the book on her chest
and a smile on her lips
as she rests.

So you see sweetheart
today an ode is so needed
So others ahead would know
lines dipped in rhythm
about there being a time
when a poetess felt weird
about being a poet .
And that time passed
For they would be proof
of poems written like these
Poems in a pandemic.


Published by appamprawns

soni writes about children and people in controlled spaces, in his quest for appam stew. homi writes in the hope of being able to buy prawns to make patiyo.

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