Rows and rows of rosies,
we bend and sniff,
achoo,
we’ve more to fear these days
than an ancient dreaded plague or flu,
we link arms,
ring-a-rosies,
we hold each other tight,
we’re here for all
through thick and thin,
through harsh morn’ scratchings
and eerie dead of night.
The home becomes a zone
where no fresh soul shall pass,
each contagion has already been
unknowingly passed.
Families isolate,
quarantine with hope,
watching loved ones repair themselves,
immunity must grow,
it’s the only option they must know.
Recovery, or treatment
when possible,
required if ease of breath abates,
this playtime of ring-a-rosies
has been forgotten as of late,
but still we all link arms,
hold each other tight,
spin, focus now, less our prior delight,
for it is with determination,
solidarity and fight,
that we will win these battles,
calm seeps into our nights.
© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Kate Greenaway in ‘Mother Goose’, sourced from Wikimedia, use under Public Domain
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