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May 17, 2020

The Quarantine Chronicles, Day 33

DAY 33: What's that sound, oh my
what's that sound -- is it Boris 
Johnson's respirator's swish and gurgle - no,
it's a garbage truck, a rare early morning racket
and the magpies nagging cawing
old man snoring after a sleepless night
no hydrofoils anymore, they were noisy
no autostrada drone
I hear the dog barks more
than loud talking or cars
honking -- I'm here to pick you
up -- I'm here, I exist, I
make sound -- but this
machine, this ventilator we're
all so hooked on, the oxygen
fix we all want so much
even if only on TV following
up and down the wards in and
out we breathe in time with
those who might make it
or might go silent
beep, shut it down
no dogs or birds on the ward
no mechanical hum
no hum except this whisper
in my ears I can't shake
my lack of equilibrium
made a strident A# note
to keep me company
telling me secrets
all the way.