We walked last night into our mother’s place
and saw her on the couch – she’s 96
and usually upon her feet. Her face
looked pallid, tired. As we hugged and kissed
her stooping over she announced a case
of Covid, in acquaintance from her midst.
Right then we wished to take back our embrace.
Exposure was four days ago, she guessed.
And now we wait for her and us to test.

(Ottava Rima)

This entry was posted in Coronaverse, Family, Health, Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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