Covid_19 is decimating my country, the USA. By Saturday, 12/12/20, we will certainly have lost 300,000 good people to this disease. Since April, I’ve been creating a series of #Covid_19 poems. For the next several weeks, I’ll feature them here. I am gutted at this senseless loss of life. Please, wear a mask. Stay at home. Be kind.
First in a series.
Sonnet 45 — all will be silent — Covid poem 1
The skies have never before been so clear,
the stars so bright, you must needs don your shades.
The Venus burns bright blue, ’tis well-nigh near;
heavens ne’er so lovely. Death on parade.
The streets and skies are quiet and stock-still.
No honking trucks, no afterburners’ blast.
The ways through town, all will be silent ‘til
the death that covers all has gone and passed.
The cost for beauty thus? Beyond measure.
Each one dead is my neighbor & my kin.
Each body buried, a human treasured;
each life taken will never speak again
Thou which death hath hauled away, unbreathing;
I hunch and sob for you, disbelieving.
— -April 2020
A sonnet can change the world. Please help me. Give me a follow; a few claps, share these Covid poems with your friends. Together, we can do this.
I’m Bringing Sonnets Back. (tm)
