
This mother is fencing,
Her back against the wall.
The deadliest skills of all,
Left, right, center facing.
Sure! Living is breathing,
But the airways feel small.
She swears her lungs can’t stall
Lunges for air, gasping.
Moving, staring, panting.
From a tight match trying
To herself disenthrall
And her downfall forestall.
Must go on surviving,
Not knowing at all
How to strike this third ball,
Sensing her end nearing.
Incomplete beginning,
In silence down the hall,
Awaits, looming nightfall,
Fishing game finishing.
Mark mom’s winning inning!
Square one of tattersall!
Go! Play! One for all!
In my right mind singing!
Imagine a vision.
Create a diversion,
A reason to wonder,
And trick the attacker.
Piercing blade incision
That starts an infusion.
Some talk of good weather!
But thoughts of last prayer!
Delirium to the ear
Not what she wants to hear,
Though it is nearly clear
That death is clearly near.
Mom listens feverish
For news that seems foolish.
She wants to make a wish:
The market be bullish.
But her thoughts melt away,
Roving to a gray day
When she was castaway,
Missing home all the way.
I am still here burning,
Shivering and sweating,
Body and soul trembling,
Heart and spirit thumping
Stay calm! But can I breathe?
Maybe hard to conceive,
But that I may soon leave
Naïve not to believe.
Mustn’t be frenetic.
Try not to be frantic!
I will snooze the hectic,
To control the panic.
Just yesterday I hid in the attic
For a pandemic poem to find sense.
Silence of talks, talks and sounds of silence.
I was confined but fine and poetic.
Though painful transfusion
That kills her illusion,
She is stronger, better
Now with a catheter.
One thinks on occasion
About this invasion,
Mission of a killer,
Invader from nowhere!
In competing season,
Or time of division,
To slaughter a fighter
Infinitely smaller,
Science lost precision.
Solving indecision
Needs, doctor or teacher,
A virus whisperer. *
*If this poem can help inspire safety to prevent the worst, please share and leave an encouragement.
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