Count Now the Cost

We come at year’s dawn        to the Desolation of Dying
horror fleeing        with hope held fast.
Ten long months we’ve        labored alone
illness avoided        in isolation.

Count now the cost        of careful survival
forgoing touch        that tender transaction.
Count now the cost        of life with no contact
pinned in place        paranoia’s prey.

We struggle along        our stricken streets
hurry to find        a helping hand.
Ghosts stare grimly.        Gathered at corners,
wet leaves, rotted wood        and windblown papers.

Count now the cost        community losses
places and people        we counted precious.
Count now the cost        COVID casualties
gathered on corners        the grim ghosts.

Books Available
The Day of My First Driving Lesson
Country Well-Known as an Old Nightmare's Stable
High-Voltage Lines
Knocking from Inside