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The greater pandemic

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The Earth is our beloved grandmother
Lying mortally ill in a nursing home
(Did you think that she was my grandmother?
For surely I thought she was yours)

Or is she in a hospital ICU?
I'm telling you we have lost her
She is everyone's Grandmother
Struggling to breathe

When Covid-19 slowed us down
(Her eyes sometimes fluttering in REM)
She slipped in and out of feverish dreams
Sometimes she even smiled in her sleep

Is it possible that she was reliving times
When the air was clean
Wilderness prevailed
Her deserts and her mountains

Flourished in their own way unmolested
Back when there were no jet trails in her eyes
Her rivers clean lakes clear
Her breezes carried the scent of blossoms

To where blue snow was hiding
In deep glistening crevasses
Was she lovingly
Admiring the perfect impressions

Of raccoon's tiny hands
In the dark mud by the stream
She began to improve
She opened her eyes

She looked around for February
But February was gone
She asked out loud
Is March here?

But March was never there
April are you here?
She asked feebly for the nurse
To open the window

But there were no nurses
There were only shadows passing the door
May must be looking for me
She thought but she wasn't

June would also be lost to her
And July only wanted to get back to work
And steal some time at the beach
But how could we forget this grandmother?

Whose children are the months of the year
And the stars are her dreams for us
And the great mountain ranges
Her smile lines The oceans her tears

(Article changed on May 3, 2020 at 17:39)

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Gary Lindorff is a poet, writer, blogger and author of several nonfiction books, a collection of poetry, "Children to the Mountain" and a memoir, "Finding Myself in Time: Facing the Music" Over the last few years he has begun calling (more...)

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