Welcome to Poetry Friday! We are well into July and today hosted by Jan at Birdseed Studio. Thank you, Jan, for hosting! Stop by and see what she has to offer us this week.
During Covid, I’ve pretty much done what I could to avoid getting sick. I have been vaccinated and boosted and avoided crowds. I traveled cross country in April without a problem. So when our oldest son from California asked us to meet him for three days in New York, we drove there.
But, I immediately had a feeling, immersed in the crowded sidewalks and restaurants, that things might be different here. I could imagine the virus everywhere.
And we came home with Covid. Our son, who recently had it, didn’t get reinfected.
Poor me! But though I regret being a link in the viral chain of transmission, for three days we had a happy visit. Vaccines and boosted, we weighed the pros and cons and took our chances. Four days after testing positive, we are feeling a lot better. We got away without serious consequences so far.
I was inspired to write this poem by my experience this week.
A WEEKEND AWAY IN THE TIME OF COVID 7/22 The virus won't care if you are bedridden; it found a new home convenient, unbidden. Soon aching and shivering, fatigued and hacking plans for next weekend? I wouldn't start packing. It's just how it is, took a chance, got sick, like others do too, not hard to predict. I suppose it's too early to forget, to pretend the pandemic is over. Nothing personal,Friend. ©Janice Scully 2022 (Draft)
I often think how different the last two years would have been if the sick were not disappearing into ICU’s and if Covid had been a different disease.
What would have happened if it were the bubonic plague, which inspired poet John Davies in the early 1600’s to write stanzas like this, stanzas that conjured visions of “carcase-carriers,” and citizens flooding streets in fear, guards on the roads:
TRIUMPH OF DEATH by John Davies LONDON now smokes with vapors that arise From his foule sweat, himselfe he so bestirres: “Cast out your dead!” the carcase-carrier cries, Which he by heapes in groundlesse graves interres.— Now like to bees in summer’s heate from hives, 5 Out flie the citizens, some here, some there; Some all alone, and others with their wives: With wives and children some flie, all for feare! Here stands a watch, with guard of partizans, To stoppe their passages, or to or fro, 10 As if they were not men, nor Christians, But fiends or monsters, murdering as they go. Excerpt from "Triumph of Death" HERE
Well, we don’t have Bubonic plague and though we might have Covid still, there are reasonable remedies and more to come. Even having Covid, it feels less threatening at this moment to me than the threat to Democracy.
Now I’m telling myself, “Lighten up!” Really, I’m trying.
I hope everyone is healthy and all the teachers and librarians on Poetry Friday are enjoying what has been for some, at least here in Syracuse, a lovely summer.
Janice
Janice, I am so sorry that you got the dreaded disease. Makes me think twice about going to NYC to visit my oncologist. I have also done my best not to get infected but everyone says it is inevitable to remain COVID-free. Your poem is a great summary of your recent happening. I like the humor at the end. The poem from the 1600s presents a rather dismal picture of what happened back then. I hope you will not have after-effects from COVID.
I think it’s safe going to your oncologist. I let my guard down. It’s the crowds and closed spaces that are the threats. I saw the Winslow Homer exhibit at the Met. It was amazing and I learned so much. The place got crowded in the afternoon, though. I hope you are enjoying your summer, Carol.
So sorry to hear about your bout with Covid! In the past half hour I have heard of at least a half dozen friends or acquaintences who have gotten it. So far, somehow, I’ve escaped its clutches. Your poem said it all, and I agree that the threat to democracy is now the plague we should be most worried about.
Thanks, Rose. Yes, I know lots of people now who have had it. They are doing OK, though, thankfully
Sending you healing vibes, Janice! My hubs and I have avoided it so far (knock wood!), but know many who have experienced it. Your poem is a reminder that it’s still lurking unfortunately.
Sending healing thoughts your way, sorry you had to get it. My daughter had it in June and many of my students have had it… No fun, though I have to agree with you about our democracy we need a huge life boat to bring our Democracy back ashore. Thanks for your more light hearted poem and even Davies much darker poem–A year or so ago I read, “The Weight of Ink” by Rachel Kadish, and part of it takes place during the plague, quite a dark time…
That book sounds interesting. A Year of Wonder by Brooks is another one about plague that I liked. Michelle, I love journal. It came packaged so lovely that I though it was a my second birthday.:)
I feel like I’m bound to get it sooner or later, but at least for now, it’s later. When it happens, I’ll take your advice and not take it personally!!
Sorry to hear that you got it, but glad you’re not having too much of a bad time with it.
Thanks, Mary Lee.
I’ve still managed to avoid COVID, but it’s very possible that the test I take in the next hour will show up positive–I feel fine, but we were definitely exposed during the first few days of our month in France and England. I’m glad you got your weekend with your son, Janice, and that it’s not too debilitating–your poem does a nice job of conveying the ambivalence we all feel about risk and danger vs. finding a way to live outside a state of constant fear.
Sorry you’ve been ill, but your illness did provide fodder for a great post. Unfortunately, I agree with you – COVID, as bad as it is, is not the greatest threat we face. God help us all.
It sounds like you had a lovely visit with your son – I’m sorry to hear about your unwelcome souvenir of your trip! Your poem proves that your sense of humor and perspective is still intact. Wishing you well soon!
Oh, darn! I’m sorry. I really feel like we are all in a giant game of awful tag. I’ve traveled too this summer and have my fingers crossed that nobody I come in contact with gives it to me. I do love your poem though. It’s a great catch of the moment and how it feels to live through 2022. Feel better soon!