Adieu
Abschied
Proshchaniye
I have the dreaded Covid
I cough
I sneeze
Everything tastes bland
I can’t smell the flowers
Oh life
You’ve forsaken me again
With the borders closed
Houses locked down
I’m a prisoner
In my own death
He circles my bed
With his foul breath
His garbs
Of mystery and menace
Oh
Its just the plague doctor
Breathing gets harder
Even with the ventilator
That suck the life out
Then pushes it back in
Make up your mind
Stupid machine
Is it the black death?
Or bat death
Pass the point of caring
As I won’t be here
To write that poem
After the plague
If only
They did
What was done in old
To close the playhouses
After the first thirty
In one week
When even gods messenger
To call it time
Or stumps
Is caught in quarantine
I won’t get word
Of my impending death
Till long after
I’m laid to rest