PANDEMIC'S
DESERTED SPACES
A deserted space can be disturbing.
It speaks of empty buildings
and barren earth.
Cities once full of energy
and boisterous crowds, now temporarily abandoned
cause imbalance to the psyche.
Yet, the human mind adapts when prompted
to shelter in place, as we are told.
Comply we must as good citizens
of our town, our state, our world.
Only go out for food, medicine or other
essential need.
And I did exactly that, last evening before bed.
I drove outside the neighborhood
for prescription drugs and take-out-food.
Alarming yet comforting feeling came over me
that I could count on my fingers
the cars that were around, a good sign, I agree.
Although relieved that many adhered
as California’s governor ordered,
the gravity of the crisis resounded
by the sight of parking lots deserted,
a state of reality in my head eerily pounded.
A deserted space can be disturbing.
It speaks of empty cupboards
and motionless playgrounds.
But deserted spaces must be re-imagined.
Because our best chance of survival
is highly dependent on the moral ground
to act to protect each other,
for the good of the many,
for names known and unknown are aplenty.
To act to curb the spread of this insolent virus
must be the driving universal call;
the only acceptable ethical standard
to follow for the good of all.
The collateral to this health crisis
is our sense of loss.
Loss of income, freedom of movement,
And loss of lives and loves,
I shudder to think how many.
This toxin importing virus has forced us
to rethink what’s important.
Collectively we grieve as the earth grieves
for the heart and mind despondent.
A deserted space is a disturbing sign.
It speaks of empty cupboards,
abandoned livelihood and worn out spirit.
But a deserted space seems to lead
to flattening the curve of COVID-19 cases;
a good sign that speaks
to the practice of social distancing and
how effectively
it helps to curb the spread of this virus.
We seek for simple ways
to console ourselves, as this pandemic
has profoundly altered our world,
altered how we go about our daily lives
in a manner that one could say is beyond bold.
We adopt extreme habits to ward off risk,
as the virus by the hour, by the day grows
endemic.
Yet, we find humor where we can.
Our friend Sue made us chuckle this morning
while practicing social distancing by
texting:
“I have washed my hands to Happy Birthday
so many times, I am now 347 years old.”
If truth be told, that quip made the decibel of
laughter
in my head increase; increase tenfold.
Poem ©Lu Sobredo
Photo ©James Sobredo
ALL RIGHT RESERVED
About the Author
Lu Sobredo is writer/publisher at
Lu Travels Abroad, a blog dedicated to folks whose limitations do not hamper
them from traveling. A year into early retirement her world collapsed from the
diagnosis of Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA). Her total life changed, but she did not
let RA define her. With love from family, friends and an awesome doctor, she
regained some functionality--her new normal. She will have RA all
her life. And she now writes about life and travel with RA. During the
pandemic of 2020, she stays put and writes poetry and a first novel, a travel
of sorts but in the heart and mind.
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