Anne-Marie Oomen | Pandemic Poems for Us All #4
ANNE-MARIE OOMEN, Award-winning Michigan author, writer, poet, Interlochen Arts Academy, Writing Workshops, Poet in Residence, Writer in Residence, Writing Residence
994
post-template-default,single,single-post,postid-994,single-format-standard,tribe-no-js,ajax_fade,page_not_loaded,,select-theme-ver-3.7,menu-animation-underline-bottom,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-6.2.0,vc_responsive

Pandemic Poems for Us All #4

This goes back a month. I thought this poem-thing was sortof depressing but now, with everything that’s happened since, I’m not so sure.

Week One: Pandemic

Since the first day, I’ve walked

the road devoid of snow,

past the open meadow, grim

with dun grasses, and there, near

an open stretch by the pines,

a flock of robins, twelve or so,

looking thin, foraging for grubs

in fallow sod.  Next day, walking

near that spot again, five deer,

grazing shoots in that same hollow.

The following day, no deer but

half a dozen sky-chipped jays,

screeching like raucous boys

splashing at the pool.

For two days after that, nothing

but the flat of matted grass. Not

good news. Was whatever force that drew

all that life now gone? As answer,

a sudden bloom of floral calls,

hoots and toots, saw-whet owls

tucked inside the blue spruce,  

invisible as thoughts of spring.