Andrea Fingerson


My legs are tingling 
Is it just in my head?
An imagined symptom 
Spurned by an infected world. 


It’s the word no one wants to say
Or see
Or be


Anyone around us could be
Carriers of a disease
An invisible enemy 
That we are at war with
Ourselves to avoid 
Each and every body, surface, sneeze 
It could all be

Trapped in our homes
That have become our prisons 
Some of us break out
For air, 
For sky,
For space to breathe
Space to be
Alive again

But even a walk in the park is a risk,
Calculated or not.
So, we ask ourselves ,
What if someone coughs,
Or touches something, 
That I might touch
Spreading the invisible

Even strangers become enemies
Because of the microscopic 
Because of droplets 
That might be in the air
That might make us sick
That might make ME sick
Or make me a carrier
An enemy to those I love

But I have to get out
Have to escape my prison home 
My legs are tingling
They need to move
Just like I need to breathe 

Is it a symptom?
Am I infected?
It started before
The world became infected
With a virus

And its omen

Andrea Fingerson is a writer, a teacher, and child of God. She has taught in the Moreno Valley Unified School District for the past fourteen years. During that time, she earned an MFA in Creative Writing, with a focus on Fiction from Cal State San Bernardino, studied art at Moreno Valley a college, and figured out how to teach remotely. She loves learning, literature, and her miniature schnauzer puppy, Annie Elliot.