For the time being
We are fine, they say, for the time being.
Enough food in the pantry, the prescriptions filled,
No need to go out of the house,
Except to let the dog run in the yard.
Our road has fallen silent, we can hear the trees
Near the river, it feels like a long Sunday
But without the church. There is plenty of time
To watch the trees bloom. When was the last time?
The elderly are used to sitting the days.
But we are also fine, the younger ones, for the time
Being. We have time to play with our children,
Bake, wash the curtains, and make love again, finally!
Now that the shelves at the shops are empty
And the parking lots are drive-through
Testing labs, we have time to pray
For those who are dying in the hospitals.
We pray the nurses will stay healthy through
Extended working shifts. We pray the doctors
Get a good night sleep before they fight to grip life
Slipping through their hands, for the time being.
In other countries many sing from their balconies
To cheer each other up through so much dying,
We call, check in, reassure, and smile
From a distance, hoping: for the time being.
March 15, 2020
Carmen Bugan 
Reblogged this on Carmen Bugan.
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It helps to read and write poetry now, doesn’t it? At least it helps me — so thank you, Carmen. Here’s my contribution today — http://elizabethboquet.com/2020/03/17/apology-to-the-woman-in-front-of-me-in-line-at-the-post-office/
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In The End
In the end it all comes down to this:
a book, a pot of tea, old cat before the fire,
chair-side lamp, thick curtains closely drawn;
winter safely locked away outside
north wind soughing through the telephone wire.
Those years it seemed important ‘to get on’,
we didn’t realise we’d be content with this,
when it came the moment to retire.
I M-B ’65
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True. So many thanks.
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