We didn’t know if we should be meeting
for breakfast, but there we were,
eating our eggs and toast
with a hefty serving of unease,
the invisible danger lurking
on the surface of the table?
On our clothes? Or, as we’d later learn,
in micro-droplets of air as we
countered fear with conversation.
Masks were for surgeons
and superheroes. ‘Social distancing’
not a concept yet. We did not
linger to catch up. Outside,
the streets were emptying, people
shuttering indoors for dubious comfort.
We said goodbye, our long friendship
put on hold or ended there and then.
We couldn’t know.
Two years later, we meet again,
a pause between variants, or
done with this for good?
Too soon to tell.
So, just in case,
no hugs.
About the Poem
As the two-year anniversary of the pandemic is announced, the mind casts back to where you were when you first became aware that life was about to change in a way you had never anticipated.
About the Author
The author was born in New York City and lives in Columbus, Ohio. Her poetry has been published in the Cortland Review and an essay is forthcoming in Multiplicity Magazine.
What a beautiful poem that captures being on the cusp of COVID and circling back to the scene of the crime, social contact