Covid19 Blues

Note~this is not autobiographical I wear a mask, even at home. My husband protests, that he must now sleep all alone. I clean my kitchen for hours each day. See, here I am washing the floors three times a day. The bathroom~ many times more.... Don't forget handles on each and every door! The counters may soon be invisible. Those I clean by a number, uniquely divisible. Gloves, I wear every single night and day. See! My fingertips wrinkled on this morning in May. My face, frightened blue,if a package doth arrive! One never knows how many of those killers are on the inside or outside. All my mail must be sanitized too. And the mailbox, why it's a coven of death for me or you! With gloved lined hands, mask, then, I strongly hold by breath. The mailman cometh, he might be my very death! The person in blue, must be covered with 'them'! Thus, I keep my distance, he's no longer my afternoon friend. The pizza guy must leave the box on the porch. After dinner, we burn it with a giant blow torch. I have gotten used to living like this. Social distancing, no dancing,no kisses absolutely no hugging. Just me in my mask and gloves a mistress of debugging. You see, it's the Killer Covi, I am mugging! The rest of the day I direct to 'covi' news. Love singing them CoVid 19 Blues, not wearing shoes! May 18, 2020 3pm PST Poem 1,276