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By Marva White
I really used to go out far more frequently
Whether by myself or if my crew was with me
We’d pack into some of the world’s smallest spots
We’d be laughin’, close dancin’, sweaty and hot
Samplin’ each other’s drinks and appetizers too
Taking selfies of our group before our time was through
Recapping the night’s events on the drive home
I’d smile and thank God I ain’t hafta be alone
But now, I’d much rather just chill in my flat
Just me and the fam, and I’m cool with that
This change was not implemented by me
It was drastic and happened quite abruptly
A virus grew into an epidemic
Within months the entire world had a pandemic
We endured turmoil from misinformation
Paralyzing fear, separation, isolation
Deep nostril swabs uncomfortable at best
We waited for results before we could rest
Gun-shaped Thermometers pointed at our heads
Normalized and desensitized reactions to guns and lead
Then a most unwelcome guest did intrude
Death invaded us prematurely and rude
Rapidly attacked the most vulnerable of us
Tore through our nation and made us anxious
Fear morphed into anger that changed some’s air
A sneeze once rendered blessings now got a frigid glare
Six feet social distance and you’d bet not make it less
Fights over sanitizer and essentials? What a mess!
Most places were closed it was like a ghost town
Crowded scenes now empty with no one around
Front line heroes risked their lives to save others
Keepers of their nation’s sisters and brothers
Some of us worked remotely, some got a check
Some used the time to rebuild and/or reflect
New crafts, hobbies and careers some did pursue
Boredom or necessity? Only they knew
With bleach I disinfected all surfaces
I used the bleach exactly for those purposes
Subjected my face to citrus-filled steam
To vaccinate or not, no middle, just extreme
All colored masks to match my fresh and fly ‘fit
Oh, I was gonna be cute, but I sho’ wasn’t catchin’ it!
Flying the friendly skies evolved to a whole ‘nother level
Without gloves and a mask, tempted the devil
The virus altered several times, and then some
We were tired, forgetting masks, some refused to even wear ‘em
I lean in, to hug, but you extend to shake
How much more cacophony must humans take?
Fast forward to now, almost four years later
Can’t say much has changed, at least for the greater
Self-distancing signs are now gone or worn out
Do we shake, kiss or hug? Do none when in doubt
I’ve got a friend who still cannot smell or taste
She says eating food for her is such a waste
I stopped wearing blue latex gloves finally
Although, you know, I did so reluctantly.
A person couldn’t help but be a gaper
If he saw my mad stash of toilet paper
For me, it doesn’t even matter the place
You best believe there’s still a mask on this face
The harder I try to be safe and wise
The more I see I’m covid-ly traumatized.
