Just four writers responded to the call for submissions to collaborate on a community poem reflecting on our pandemic and COVID experiences. Together, they have created OUR COMMUNITY POEM – 2023. It is featured in a lobby display at the Ogden Farmers’ Library for the month of March.
Today, most people are tired of hearing about the pandemic, talking about it or even thinking about it. “My hesitant and painful conclusion is this: as much as we would rather NOT talk or think about the pandemic, I think we must,” says Spencerport resident and project organizer, Teresa Schreiber Werth, “because talking and thinking about it is an integral part of our healing. Talking and thinking about our pandemic experience is what will help us become more resilient. Sharing our pandemic experiences will give us some perspective, help us to feel more in control, validated and less alone, and provide some context for how we might handle the ‘next wave,’ should there be one.”
OUR COMMUNITY POEM – 2023
I
What is this thing that happened to us?
A deadly virus, lurking, looking for places to flourish
long after our touch. Some see only eyes behind a mask— strange eyes, young eyes, eyes that smile,
old eyes, tearful, tired eyes, others, bright and tender.
Some are surprised to see a hand,
an unfamiliar gesture—someone’s warm, gentle hand reaching out in empathy and caring —
but I stop to wonder, worry:
Is it safe? Is it clean? Is it a hand to be trusted, held,
to be squeezed, to be strong, this hand of a fleeting friend?
Craving the body-heat of a hug,
my quiet space is lonely, cold.
We remain together— apart—never quite sure
what surface holds our undoing, afraid to trust what can’t be seen or sanitized. What has happened to us goes by the names: trauma, fatigue, perspective, reality, suspicion,
opportunity, vulnerability, vigilance, urgency, uncertainty and
a nagging need to know
beyond a shadow…
Will it ever be over?
II
What is this thing that has happened to us?
A positive Corona Virus result
Hooks you in the gut
Reenacting a version
That life has a conclusion.
Everything becomes a blur
You’re left in a stir
Your family feeling the hurt
Of you no longer being on earth.
Keeping abreast didn’t help
There wasn’t much depth
The research still fairly new
With very little uncertainty grew.
The death toll escalated
Whether persons were vaccinated
Which too aided
In the masses feeling eradicated.
Another was the stigma attached
No one wants to be near
Simply due to the fear
Swirling in the atmosphere.
No human contact
Carried the heaviest impact
Unable to be with loved ones
Created a space where loneliness was felt.
The new normal came fully clothed
With curfews, limited numbers,
Bars and restaurants closed
No social life
Giving way to strife.
Traveling got affected
PCR test and vaccination stipulated
Where and when you vacated.
III
What is this thing that has happened to us?
We call it Corona Virus.
It invaded our world.
I felt a sense of something stolen
living in a house with no lights or windows.
For the first time ever
we were not able to visit
our son and his family at Christmas.
That was punishment enough.
We had the time we wished we had
before this pandemic. It was a long,
forced time and we weren’t sure what to do with it.
I found reading a way to hang on to reality.
I struggled with thoughts that would haunt me;
like how long do we have to go through
this dark tunnel
and when does it all end?
My experience from the past
three years taught me
how much we need each other
how much we need to be kind.
IV
What is this thing that has happened to us?
Anxiety and panic fill my cup.
Muffled voices, sadness, despair
Misinformation fills my ears.
Anger and hate in my lungs,
Desperately trying not to succumb…
The virus spreads seen and unseen.
Aren’t we all just human beings?!
Alone….he takes his last breath.
Sadly, we couldn’t be with him in death.
Too many questions, not enough answers.
I hope there is a God to answer our prayers.
Now just broken…
Now just numb…
Can all this trauma ever be undone?
V
What is this thing that has happened to us?
Because of it,
We learned to wait, to care about the elderly,
the lonely, the isolated.
We learned to ZOOM, to send messages, food and prayers.
We learned that taking life for granted is a risky business.
We learned to send cards and letters and bouquets.
We learned that sharing is caring and time is precious.
We learned there are many ways to experience death
and carry grief.
We learned that change can be good.
We learned that we have all been changed
by this thing that happened to us.
Contributing writers are:
Elora Supersad (IV), Paul & Donna Best(III),
Beautilyn Atkinson (II) and Ms. Werth (I & V).
