Escape From the Pandemic
It's dead December, we're getting nowhere, ready
for vaccine like a starving tribe shoved from behind
under the bridge, kicking some dust along the way.
A hand holds my arm, hoarse voices coaxes
Life's swindler races to the moon, go to its amusement park!
Is this real or my imagination, girls with mini-skirts, open blouses
giggling by the shore, tossing their suntanned bodies around.
A warm breeze adds to their childish delight. A mother duck's teaching
its toddler how to swim, and kids swarming the ice cream bicyclist
who demands them to line up but they rush forward screaming, falling.
I stumble on a diaper and run to the ocean to clean, that's where the senior
boys hang out and, occasionally, a boat approaches and some hands wave
at the crowd. The sun stares them down, the sand swallows their long shadow, and the tide swings them back and forth, showing traces
of oil slick. Sunburned, I jump over a dune, a crumpled book drops from my pocket, Sonnets of Love, a bearded old man picks it up and reads
It's a sunlight in the darkness, and its name is love. O love, you cook no more fervent. Do not fry my feelings on a cold grill! Is love the only thing that keeps us apart? Yes darling. Thanks heaven.
He's calm and peaceful with a contemplative face speaking generations,
life whirls before him like a movie reel in an outdoor cinema, maybe he was a
forest firefighter, who jumped from the planes to put out the smoke, or worked at a convenient store, where he got his supply of cigarette, or a bus driver who always greeted you with a cheery smile. He points to a woman slumped to a chair, "that's my lady, used to be quite a gal, but is now just happy to be around." I shudder when I think of the moment, when death
keeps them apart. Before that happens, he must thank her again for her many kindnesses.
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