{"id":67734,"date":"2020-06-27T16:09:20","date_gmt":"2020-06-27T20:09:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=67734"},"modified":"2020-07-10T19:10:39","modified_gmt":"2020-07-10T23:10:39","slug":"hour-7-season-of-the-covid","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2020\/06\/hour-7-season-of-the-covid\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour 7 \u2014 Season of the Covid"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Beth A. Fleisher<\/p>\n<p>Hour 7<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Prompt 7:\u00a0 Write a poem titled Season of the (fill in the blank). The fill in the blank could be a reference, it could be an actual season, it could be something abstract, or concrete, anything you want. The key is to write a poem that matches, or interacts with that title.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Season of the Covid<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Is there any passing of the seasons<\/p>\n<p>in this crazy world we\u2019re living in?<\/p>\n<p>It all feels like one homogenous thing.<\/p>\n<p>Some days. Many days. And yet<\/p>\n<p>I see<\/p>\n<p>the Iris buds rise from the leaves<\/p>\n<p>and then open into lush purple flowers<\/p>\n<p>with sweet scent of Spring.<\/p>\n<p>As those blooms fade,<\/p>\n<p>I see<\/p>\n<p>my lilac tree is laden with huge ropes<\/p>\n<p>of little purple flowers with pink centers,<\/p>\n<p>and I can smell their deep fragrance from my window.<\/p>\n<p>I see<\/p>\n<p>the first robin with his red breast.<\/p>\n<p>And hummingbirds who have been away for a year<\/p>\n<p>appear at the feeder on my patio to sip nectar.<\/p>\n<p>I can feel<\/p>\n<p>the difference in the warmth of the sun on my back<\/p>\n<p>as spring glides into summer.<\/p>\n<p>So why do I feel like time is not moving on at all?<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I was talking with my daughter yesterday<\/p>\n<p>about the State Fair being cancelled,<\/p>\n<p>along with all of the 4<sup>th<\/sup> of July Fireworks,<\/p>\n<p>parades, carnivals, and barbecues.<\/p>\n<p>That was my \u201cAHA!\u201d moment.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019m realizing that all of the big and little social events<\/p>\n<p>that normally mark the march of time are missing.<\/p>\n<p>No April birthday celebrations with my sons.<\/p>\n<p>No excited preparation for Mother\u2019s Day or Father\u2019s Day.<\/p>\n<p>No burst of freedom when school is out for the summer.<\/p>\n<p>No graduation ceremonies.<\/p>\n<p>No stop to buy Sparklers and Ground Blooming Flowers for the 4<sup>th<\/sup> of July.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>It seems that from mid-March until now,<\/p>\n<p>almost the end of June,<\/p>\n<p>we\u2019ve been living in one big, long difficult season:<\/p>\n<p>The Season of the Covid.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Face coverings, social distancing,<\/p>\n<p>shelter at home, be responsible,<\/p>\n<p>protect the elders, don\u2019t go to stores,<\/p>\n<p>wash your hands, disinfect everything,<\/p>\n<p>make PPE, search several towns to find t.p.!<\/p>\n<p>The passing of the seasons has been usurped<\/p>\n<p>by the passing of the Phases.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I find it\u2019s all too much. Too much to think about,<\/p>\n<p>too much to worry about, too much to take in.<\/p>\n<p>I desperately want my old life back,<\/p>\n<p>when the passing of the seasons meant family time,<\/p>\n<p>going on adventures, planning trips, and celebrations.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>But as I take a deep breath and look out my sliding glass door,<\/p>\n<p>two ducks are happily swimming laps in our closed swimming pool!<\/p>\n<p>I assume they flew in from the more-crowded wildlife refuge,<\/p>\n<p>and as they enjoy this clear blue body of water all to themselves,<\/p>\n<p>the absurdity of it hits me, and I can\u2019t stop smiling.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The season of Covid brings its benefits, too.<\/p>\n<p>The decreased air pollution during the lockdown<\/p>\n<p>meant more oxygen in the air and happier birds,<\/p>\n<p>who fill the air with their joyful thanks.<\/p>\n<p>Families who, on average, had 38 minutes of interaction<\/p>\n<p>per day suddenly are together All.The.Time. and<\/p>\n<p>they are learning to talk to each other again.<\/p>\n<p>And K-12 kids who spent hours in front of video games<\/p>\n<p>in their pre-Covid lives, are now outside, riding bikes,<\/p>\n<p>and inventing the 2020 version of King of the Hill.<\/p>\n<p>Workers have realized they can work from home,<\/p>\n<p>and I\u2019m not sure employers can ever<\/p>\n<p>put that\u00a0Genie back in the bottle\u2026or cubicle.<\/p>\n<p>And we all finally have time to really pay attention<\/p>\n<p>to the news \u2014 and we were horrified and disgusted<\/p>\n<p>as we watched George Floyd murdered before our eyes.<\/p>\n<p>And we have had time to take to the streets and march in protests,<\/p>\n<p>rediscovering that the Power really is with the People.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The Season of Covid continues. We can either struggle<\/p>\n<p>against its lessons, or embrace them. Some of us have prayed<\/p>\n<p>for Something to wake people up.<\/p>\n<p>The Season of the Covid definitely has\u00a0done that.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Beth A. Fleisher Hour 7 &nbsp; Prompt 7:\u00a0 Write a poem titled Season of the (fill in the blank). The fill in the blank could be a reference, it could be an actual season, it could be something abstract, or concrete, anything you want. The&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1455,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-67734","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67734","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1455"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=67734"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67734\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":78477,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67734\/revisions\/78477"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=67734"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=67734"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=67734"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}