April 4, 2020
If you’re sick, stay home, people say.
Gray spring with pandemic, people
on the phone FaceTiming! Sing a song
of an ambulance without wailing.
Let’s take a lesson from the birds, they sing
and while outside doing yard work in my backyard, let’s
not think about this Panademic, though it
won’t go away soon. It’s futile to think about it
constantly. Birds sing, fly and are grateful
for their daily bread. She practiced
long-distance resistance to a hospital stay,
with an abundance of lipstick, some bling, and hairspray.
Gray hair, touch-up fail, masked face, lipstick for sale.
Resistance is futile, watching the day’s folly
in the briefing room. Pandemic distance, missing
the sea’s foam as I sit here at home.
Resistance may be futile but apathy is worse.
Open to the blinging voices, they sing
my name from a distance. Pandemic spring
meant staying safe in nature, with room to roam.
by Delia Vaden, Cindi Neisinger, Burcu Misirli Chatham, Frances T. Borella, Nan Friedley, Joseph Milazzo, Juanitz E. Mantz, Cati Porter, Robin Longfield
Original prompt: Write one line of poetry using at least three of the following words somewhere in your line:
Sick Pandemic Paramedic Lipstick Alone Phone Cone Bone Safe Space Pace Face Well Fell Hotel Hospital Ambulance Chance Dance Home Roam Foam Loam Holy Wholly Folly Spring Ring Wing Sing Bling Distance Resistance Assistance Stay Play Gray May Day Filet Hairspray