My PCR Test (Personal, Covid, Reality)
The panic of an adult son stranded, flightless, Pacific Region.
I gave him life, I gave him wings, the virus clipped them.
I’m here frantic, helpless.
Is home where the heart is? Tearing, tortured, my heart is stretching across uncertain miles.
The reasoning of an adult daughter, calming the turbulence of her mother’s angst.
I gave her life, she’s now the scaffolding supporting mine, the virus destabilised it.
I’m here, being calmed, but still helpless.
Home is not where my heart is, it's in The Land of the Long White Cloud.
The loneliness of a matriarch, resigned to phone calls, navigating Facetime.
She gave me life, twilight isolation is now hers, the virus jailed her.
I’m here cajoling, reassuring but feel helpless.
Home is where her heart is, the comfort of shared tragedies and triumphs.
The presence of a partner, pragmatic approach, stoic demeanour.
He enhances my life, but I retreat, conserving my energy for them.
I’m here, trying to connect, but feeling helpless.
Home is where my heart was, the virus evicted it.
The hope of a family, to be reunited, to be whole.
Interrupted lives, faceless victims, the virus hijacked them.
I’m here, socially distanced, waiting, but helpless.
Home is in our hearts, in mine, in theirs, in hers, in his….
No virus will erase these.