Wuhan seemed deserted, abandoned— All hidden behind closed doors— Surveilled and quarantined, while Holding the attention of the world.
Yet, as we held our collective breath, Our vain hopes for containment went Unfulfilled, as the virus spread to Regions, and then countries, beyond.
Did we really think this tiny crown, As it stowed away on hands, in coughs, Might obey our commands to halt— Not to cross our border?
How naïve, or perhaps ’twas willful ignorance. And now, while we should be concerned, there’s No need for panic, no time for casual racism. Disease spread can be slowed, even prevented, Simply by following the advice herein.
It’s Valentine’s Day—at least for a few more minutes. If the checkout line at the grocery store yesterday is any indication, lots of people got stuffed animals and big pink cards covered in glitter (lots of glitter) in my town today. I tend to prefer a more low-key day (because I am too frugal to see much point in buying a card for eight bucks that will be looked at once!), so my day was perfect for me: No grand gestures, just dinner with my husband and son and a chance to Skype with my daughter who is away at the moment. Spending that kind of time with loved ones is definitely my idea of a successful holiday. Whether you celebrated romantically with a partner, as part of a family gathering, with a friend or two, or just enjoyed alone time, I hope your day was as perfect for you as mine was for me.
Although my Valentine’s Day was lovely, there have been some irritants in the last couple of weeks. What better way to slay those dragons than with a bit of fluff and fun? I think I’ll call this collection Poems from Cranky People. Writing them made me feel better. I can guarantee these little bits of verse will not end up on a card you can buy at the grocery (not in pink, not at any price, and they are definitely glitter free), but perhaps they’ll make you smile. Enjoy the last few minutes of the holiday!
Foreshadowing by Rebecca Bigelow
Each February we pretend
That some rodent can portend
The duration of our wintry state.
But I wish it would prognosticate
Something of more import.
So if, in fact, we must resort
To using a groundhog named Phil
To predict the future, then he should spill
Whether we will suffer, over our objections,
At least six more months of politics and elections.
Lightning Bugs by Rebecca Bigelow
A light glows briefly in the dark.
And like the mating call of a firefly,
Another answers it.
And soon the lights are twinkling.
Some flashes last mere milliseconds.
But some can be measured
In moonlights and cups of cocoa.
And I wonder why
It is so important
To check your damn phone
In the theatre.