Coronavirus Pandemic

a poem by Paul Butters, UK

History is now being made:
One of the greatest plagues
Since Spanish Flu in nineteen-nineteen.
Self-Isolation is imposed
By those in lofty towers of power.

No sport, no pubs, no school, no restaurants…
Supermarket shelves all empty
From panic-buying shop-hoarders.
See that old lady stooping over her zimmer-frame,
Trying to spot any morsel that might be left.
A late-shift nurse cries openly
At the sheer selfishness of those
Who have left our stores a barren emptiness.

Our thoughts go out to all those victims
Of The Virus
And their families.
But also those forced home alone.
Are we not to walk in solitude soon
Even though we keep away from everyone?

Where will I go for Easter,
My kitchen or my bedroom?
We’ve been pushed off a cliff
Into a new lifestyle.
And it might last as long as
A Year.

Paul Butters

© PB 21\3\2020.

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