Recently a colleague told of turning up to an old favourite cafe. It was closed. It made me ponder some of the last two and half years. The examples are by no way exhaustive. Just samples.
Pandemic Ponderings and Pain
i.
Astride a makeshift ergo stool
A teacher MS Teams her students, while
The eyes at the back of her head
Crane to the open door behind her, where
across the hall
Her own children logon
Uniformed in headphones
To their own class.
For whom is she the teacher?
Her class? Her kids? Or society?
Before this
Hybrid was a plant
Or a car
Not a learning style.
Learning from this all.
ii.
Through fog-misted glasses
A young registrar doctor
Glances at the nurse beside her
His temples almost bleeding
From the tightness the surgical mask creates
One of doctor’s colleagues resigned last week
One of nurses fainted on shift
A head injury making her a patient.
Is the virus the only health crisis?
How do we vaccinate exhaustion?
And treat mental health?
iii.
“Permanently closed”
The sign said
The window seats
Face the Lakeside views
With no one seated on them
No scents of steam or stir-fry fill the air
Covid cancel of a cosy lunch
Fancy a delivered meal on the duvet again?
With a streaming service soundtrack.
Another small business is no more.
iv.
User-paid solitary confinement
As aged care locks down once more
A room with a view,
Maybe,
Maybe not.
What day is it?
Staff slide meals and medications into my cell.
Might as well have the virus and be in bed
There’s little else to my day.
v.
Educators
Healthcare workers
Small business people
Those in residential aged care:
We may not see you
But we gaze in your direction
We can’t count your cost
But applaud your courage
Maybe someone will come,
we hope so
To admire your class
Or refresh your mask
Or present a new business opportunity
Or invite you out of your room
We thank you
You who keep us grounded
And who forge the frontiers
Of our new normal.
Simon C.J. Falk 5 July 2022
Simon's still stanza 