Tag Archives: corona virus

Starlorn in the Aftergloom

Corona, poem, Poetry, , , , ,

Adrift on infectious tides
wandering and wondering
we are in craxis

No action should be aimless now
but if only they could be
and we were free again

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

This poem was written in response to a prompt at Dverse, where we are challenged to write poetry using one or more of ten words selected from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, by John Koenig.  

I have used three:

Starlorn: a sense of loneliness looking up at the night sky, feeling like a castaway in the middle of the ocean, whose currents are steadily carrying off all other castaways.

Aftergloom: the pang of loneliness you feel the day after an intensely social event, as the glow of voices and laughter fades into a somber quiet.

Craxis: the unease of knowing how quickly your circumstances could change on you- that no matter how carefully you shape your life into what you want it to be, the whole thing could be overturned in an instant.

Locked away

Corona, poem, Poetry, , , ,

It was too quiet in those weeks
no cars rumbling past
no children singing their way to school.
The fresh smells and colours of Spring
reclaimed streets and towns
birds popped into view, posed on lampposts
dawdled on warm car roofs
sauntered across unbusy roads.

Fear has a taste and it is this
the dread of an invisible invader
the unwelcome peace of a street.

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Another memory of the first UK lockdown in March 2020

Remembering Lockdown

Corona, poem, Poetry, , , ,

It was almost a living thing, large and smothering
that pinned us down and
which seems to have shed hairs everywhere,
I’m still finding them, clearing them away.

Days melted into each other
alone in this vessel of a house
plunging deep depths of fears and anxieties
climbing swallowing waves to see clear skies.
Gradually ending more and more days with a muttered
“That was a good one, wasn’t it?”.

Absorbing ourselves in the minutia of gardening
seedlings as companions, hope for some future
and canny planning for food supplies.
A returning shopper asked what is it like out there
as they washed clothes, hair and body
and we wiped clean all they had brought back.
No eggs this time.

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Remembering the first UK Lockdown, in March 2020, an unsettling frightening time.

We are not out of the woods yet. This past week we have been isolating with a sick adult son who was in contact with a confirmed Covid case. We are waiting for test results, but the labs are slow due to 1.6 million poeple isolating this week and getting tested!

At least in full lockdown we were allowed to leave the house for exercise — I’m feeling very confined.

Fret not too much — so far, the effects are light.

linked to – earthweal open link weekend #75 | earthweal

Boames Lane

Corona, nature, poem, Poetry, , , , ,

Stark morning light
etches lanky dogroses scrambling in hedgerows
as we tramp the lane once more

Scrabbles of bright
flowers grace grass edges
the blues and yellows of Springs panoply

Another troubled night
has left us weary, needing solace
in this our morning walk

Then into sight
floats a Red Kite, peering for prey
her elegance lifts us

And we delight

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

All in the Family

Corona, Life, poem, Poetry, , , , , ,

Raging against the rest of us
she calls us feeble sheep
doltards, retards, connivers in
our own imprisonment
bitter enemies of freedom

Freedom being, apparently
the right to party
to go down the pub
drink yourself insensible
and to then post photos of your creative craziness
as you throw up in the gutter

My freedoms are different
yes, I long to see and hug
but I need more to stay alive
to walk in fresh air, to read, to think
in peace and in health

Freedom , as always, is mutable

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

I am listening with my eyes closed

Corona, poem, Poetry, , , ,

I am listening with my eyes closed
bees bumble in flowers
wasps sharp buzzing near my head
bicycles spin past in the lane
I smell the lycra
I am listening with my eyes closed

I am listening with my eyes closed
to walkers stepping around
keeping the distance
people anxious and wary
soft breezes and hot sun
in a trapped season
I am listening with my eyes closed

I am listening, listening, feeling
cool air under trees
folk chatting as they pass
voices subdued
always the news, always the count

I am hoping, hoping, wanting
Fear washes us all clean
I am remembering
embracing, kissing friends
laughing

I am listening with my eyes closed
air moves, shivers leaves above
traffic burrs along a distant road
something clangs nearby
life persists, hopes, loves
I am listening with my eyes closed.

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

My response to earthweal weekly challenge: The Unsayable.

I am describing last summer in lockdown in this poem. Apart from the change form summer to winter, there is no material difference in my daily life between then to now.

Of course, we do now have safe and working vaccines!

Vaccination Day

Corona, poem, Poetry, , ,

I could see his wide welcoming smile
even a mask couldn’t hide it
as he waved me through the door
to the temperature scan.
At the entry desk, a familiar face
my diabetes nurse, eyes lit
everyone was buoyant, so
pleased to be there
to be part of something grand.

A short wait, wearing a sticker
with name, birthdate, NHS number
then a doctor beckoned
such a light jab in the arm
and then out to sit fifteen minutes
chatting to strangers, laughing
finally back out to bright sunshine.

Every thing was bright today.

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Today I got my first dose of the Pfizer-BioNTech vaccine. Data shows one dose reduces the risk of catching infection by more than 70%, rising to 85% after the second dose. Yippee!

Thank you to all the volunteers who are making this fast rollout such a happy success.