Thursday, March 19, 2020


One good thing about these damned killer microbes
has been their impact on my sensibility,
a seismic blessing I am humbled to see
as I'd been having trouble
subduing my irritation at the morning noise on the road
outside my apartment door.

The failure I recognized I was feeling
straining for sympathy for the “poor souls”
exercising their momentary autonomy with a vengeance
on the internal combustion engines carrying them to jobs
I gathered from the sound of raging acceleration
they powerfully resent, I know now
was the jealousy of a solitary retiree.

Now I hear the rages
as of mortally wounded beasts,
mechanized extensions
of the puny, frightened, denying hominids within
defying social distancing
and flying into the invisible lethal storm
for another paycheck
to feed and clothe their frightened families.

                                                                                  m.d. paust


  1. That is a lovely, moving poem, Mathew. I get anxious and stressed in these times, but there are so many who have problems that are much worse.

    1. Thanks, Tracy. Perilous times, indeed. I pray we all get thru it safely.